


In Times of Desperate Need

by soowrites



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, NaNoWriMo, Witness Protection Program
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 17:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soowrites/pseuds/soowrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has been placed in witness protection after having witnessed the murder of both his parents and Uncle Gaius. Now he's being enrolled in an academy under a different name and a whole pretend life. Now, he has a prattish new roommate, and rich magically people who think they're better than everyone else, and maybe some really good friends and a certain blond prat that he may or may not having feelings for.</p>
<p>And then his parents' killer starts sending Merlin messages, ones that tell him there is more to behind his family's death than meets the eye, but is he ready to actually face the true?</p>
<p>Turns out, he may not have a choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lessy_Lies](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lessy_Lies).



> I wrote this for NaNoWriMo 2012, based off [this](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/33344.html?thread=35143744#t35143744) prompt on MKM :)
> 
> This is unbeta'd for the moment, so I apologise for any mistakes.
> 
> Let me know what you think :D

 

Merlin sat hunched over himself in the large plush armchair that had been placed in front of Headmaster Pendragon’s desk. He was trying to sink into himself, hands clutching each other tightly, right now the only thing that was keeping him in the drudgery of reality.

The past four days had been filled with numbness and disbelief; police officers and concerned citizens, all asking him questions about the one moment in his life that he just wanted to forget, and white noise when the voices and images before him blending into one mess. Mostly just white noise. Because he didn’t want to accept what had happened. Who would? Because the truth, it was the worst thing you could possibly imagine.

Because his parents, Hunith and Balinor, and his uncle, Gaius, had been killed. Murdered. Attacked in their own home by a psychopath, who had tortured them, butchered them, bloody and messy, in the kitchen of their home, right in front of their teenage son and nephew.

In front of _him_.

Now, he was alone. Scarred and alone.

And that lunatic was still out there, still free and _alive_ whilst his family was dead, and the chances are, gunning for him as well.

That’s what brought Merlin here, to CamelotAcademy in the middle of the Kentish countryside; to Uther Pendragon, a greying man with a calculating and mildly caring demeanour and apparently an old college friend of his Uncle Gaius. According to the Chief Inspector Cohen, witness protection was the only option to keep him safe.

A new name; a new identity; a new _life_.

“I understand this must be a distressing time for you, Mr. Emrys,” Uther sympathised, his hands clasped on the surface of his desk, “and I must assure you that here at Camelot, you will be well protected from the monster that did this, as well making sure you receive the best education in the country. Both I, and Chief Inspector Cohen, can promise you that.”

From the back of the office, Cohen approached the desk. Just as he had been when Merlin had first encountered him, he was tall with thick black hair and grey eyes that seemed to be trained in encouraging your trust. Tucked under his arm was a file, which he placed gently on the desk in front of Merlin and smiled softly.

“This is your new identity,” he explained, “It contains everything you need to know. You must learn every detail of this file, Merlin; it’s essential to making this story believable, understand?”

Merlin nodded hesitantly, not daring himself to talk, and reached out for the file, pulling it closer to his chest protectively.

Cohen continued, “You’re name is now Alex Vhalos, half brother to Mordred Vhalos. He’s a 7th year student here, whose father is the head of the Protection of Magical Children in Britain. He’s been put in charge of your case and aftercare during this difficult situation. You’ve entered the academy as a scholarship student, much like Mordred, and so are required to have monthly meetings with Mr. Pendragon to review your progress. This is a way that we can all keep track of each other. You’ll tell us how you’re adjusting and we’ll tell you how the investigation is going, as we agreed. In this file, you’ll see items such as a copy of your new birth certificate, your blood type and even a certificate you won in year 3 for a science project. As you can see, we’ve covered all bases to make sure that you are not discovered.”

‘Clearly,’ Merlin murmured to himself.

“You’ll have to register as a student and attend classes just as every other student, and be expected to conduct yourself in a professional and elegant manner in and out of lessons,” Uther told him firmly, “You’ll be under close surveillance obviously, and under the protection of two 7th years, Gwaine and Percival. They’re early graduates from the police program and have come highly recommended from the program, Cohen and myself. They’ll take good care of you.”

“A meeting has been scheduled tomorrow morning. They’ll join you for breakfast so you can get a proper meeting,” Cohen added.

“And you’ll be sharing a room with my son, Arthur,” Uther continued, a hint of a proud smile on his face at the mention of his son, “He’s been without a roommate for some time now and I think it’s time he learnt to share with others, as it were.”

Merlin nodded jerkily and felt, once again, at a loss of what to do. He’d been feeling like that a lot lately, where the prospect of the future just seemed so overwhelming and lonely, but this was a different feeling. This was the feeling of suffocation, when the control you once possessed is taken from you and the panic starts to settle in. He meant bodyguards, really? Growing up he had only had his small family, not really any friends to speak of (none that were human at least) and now he was expected to put his trust, his life, into the hands of a bunch of strangers. And it wasn’t even that. He was going to be surrounded by them – his ‘brother’ and ‘father’, his new roommate, the headmaster, the police – with little chance of freedom. He was…overwhelmed.

But they were only trying to help, to make sure he was safe, and he could only be grateful for that. So he tried to smile, hoping it would convey his thanks for everything that were doing for him, but probably only showed his pain and worry, judging by the sympathetic looks he received in response. He ducked his head quickly.

“Don’t worry Merlin, we’ll find the person who’s responsible. I promise,” Cohen vowed seriously, “Until then, just focus on staying safe and keeping low, okay?”

“…Okay,” Merlin finally spoke, his voice a little croaked and cracked from its lack of use. Cohen made to leave and Merlin sat up straighter, halting him. “Thank you, Chief Inspector Cohen…I…” he trailed off.

The man looked understanding. He rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it in a comforting gesture. “Don’t worry about it kid. Thank me when we catch this bastard.” Cohen and Uther shared a silent goodbye, just a nod in each other’s direction, before the officer left, the door shutting quietly behind him.

There was a moment of quiet, where Uther examined him with interest in his gaze and Merlin shuffled awkwardly in place, unsure of what he was supposed to do now, when there was a knock on the office door.

The man that entered was obviously a student here, dressed in black suit pants and an untucked white shirt. A red and yellow tie – the colours of CamelotAcademy – hung loosely from beneath his collar. His brown curls were an unkempt mess on the top of his head, and icy blue eyes watched Merlin closely. A smirk played on his lips.

“Ah, just on time,” Uther greeted, leaning back in his large leather desk chair, “Merlin, this is Mordred, your new brother. He’s going to show you where you will register for the academy – he’ll help you with the information, of course – and gather your class schedule and whatnot.”

“Hey little brother,” Mordred said slyly.

“H-hello,” Merlin stuttered, wide-eyed.

“Off you go,” Uther made a shooing gesture and Merlin scrambled to obey, quickly stuffing the file into the brown leather satchel that had once belonged to Gaius. “Oh, and Mr. Emrys,” he called out after a moments pause, “Please keep this in mind because it’s important: _Merlin_ has magic; _Alex_ does not.”

Merlin gave a hesitant nod, deciding against asking, and murmured a quick goodbye before following Mordred – ‘ _his older brother_ ,’ he reminded himself firmly – from the office.

Merlin’s worn converses squeaked on the hard wooden flooring, just one beat behind the heavy plodding footfalls of Mordred’s military boots. He hadn’t said anything since they had kept the office and that would have made Merlin more nervous than he was before about this new place, if it weren’t for the grander of the hallway around him, which acted as a pleasant, and welcomed, distraction.

It was long and winding with magnificent archways, all with specifically designed images engraved in the brick, telling stories of myth and legend and history; each one different from the arch before. In each cove, hung an old painting, depicting the way the school had grown over the centuries from a family estate to an orphanage to the private boarding school it now stands as today; portraits of old headmasters, all older gentleman, with the exception of one very fiery woman who smiled smugly out at the world from her frame, and historic wins in jousting and fencing, all achieved by ex-students. All telling the tale of this wonderful building. His new home.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Mordred’s voice. “Okay, so I understand this is a hard time for you and everything, but let me give you some brotherly advice: act as if nothing’s wrong. This is a pretty good school, but some of the people that go here – well, let’s say, they think the sun shines out of their arses, and seeing you like this,” Mordred glanced at him in a way that made Merlin feel completely self-conscious, “they’ll eat you alive, _Alex_.”

“That sounds more like a warning than advice, _brother_ ,” Merlin commented dryly.

His lips twitching upward in amusement, Mordred shrugged. “Take it as you will, but it doesn’t mean it’s not true. Maybe you’ll be fine. I’m sure Gwaine and Percy will take one look at those pathetic puppy dog eyes and try to protect you from the world, but they won’t be able to keep that up forever. I just want you to be prepared. It wouldn’t exactly make my day for my _little brother_ to get beaten up by some stuck-up pricks because he can’t tell which fork is for salad, and which is for steak.”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much,” Merlin retorted hotly.

Mordred appeared amused. “Well, I’d like to hope so. My father’s put a lot on the line to help you during this time, more than he usually does, and I would hate for all of that to be for nothing.”

The frustration left him in a rush, leaving behind only sombre feelings. He gave Mordred a sorrowful look. “Yeah…I’m s-“

The 7th year cut him off with a sharp look. “There’s no need for apologises, _Alex_. He’d do anything to protect abused children, considers it his vocation, and he’d take it as an insult if you think anything of the sort. Lesson number one about our father,” He added as an afterthought. He pulled to a sudden stop and inclined his head towards an old wooden door, allowing Merlin the opportunity to hesitantly step forward first. The room was small, brightened by the overhead lights that hung in two rows across the ceiling. The woman behind the desk at the opposite end of the room looked up as they entered and smiled warmly at them.

“Mordred,” she welcomed, “What are you doing here?”

A charming smile fell onto the older man’s face as he strolled forward, so quickly that it took a moment for Merlin to get over the unexpected shock. Mordred’s arm was a weight around his shoulders as he led him forward. “Alice, it’s nice to see you again. Headmaster Pendragon said that I should get the registration forms for my baby brother Alex here. He’s starting as a 6th year.”

“Another Vhalos?” Alice sounded surprised, “I wasn’t aware you had a brother, Mordred…”

“An old flame of my fathers,” he lied skilfully, “His mother’s recently died and well, my father could hardly turn him away, could he? He’s here on a scholarship – apparently, intelligence runs through the family. As well as dashing good looks, wouldn’t you say Alice?”

Merlin blushed darkly and averted his gaze to the area behind the woman’s head. Alice was flushed pink, but she merely gave him a knowing smile and turned away, announcing something about having the forms needed somewhere around here.

“Second piece of advice about Camelot: anything you want, chances are Alice can get it for you,” Mordred muttered into his ear, “She’s a witch and a sucker for a pretty face. Just kept that innocent image going and she’ll eat out of the palm of your hand.” He straightened up again, that smile returning to his face, when Alice turned back to face them, “Thank you so much Alice. We very much appreciate it.”

She waved him off slightly and smiled with a motherly reassurance at Merlin. “This is a standard procedure for all new students. It’s to make sure we have the correct information on file. Full name and address, contact details in case of emergency, whether you have magic abilities or not, that kind of thing, very basic; nothing to worry about.”

Merlin strained a smile and took the piece of paper with shaky hands. It was surreal, looking at this sheet of paper. In just a few lines of black ink, it was as if it were talking about an entirely difference person. Merlin Emrys didn’t exist anymore. Instead, there was only Alex Vhalos with his half brother and lack of magical abilities. Yes, not him anymore. It was Mordred in the end that snatched the paper from his hand and handed it back, façade back in place and told Alice that, “yes, everything seems to be in order, right Alex?”

Alice asked him to sign the page in confirmation and it was a psychical effort to sign a name that wasn’t his own. She smiled warmly at him and told him that everyone let’s their nerves get the better of them on the first day, and that really Camelot Academy is a brilliant place to be, for magical and non-magical students. Then she gave him the standard welcome kit – “It has all the information you need to know about the school, the electives you can take, the set out of the day etc. Plus there’s a map of the campus – although, admittedly, it’s not the best. I would suggest asking your roommate or your buddy for help getting around the academy for the first few weeks – and, of course, your time table.”

“Oh and here’s your room key,” Alice added quickly, handing over an electric fob. Merlin rolled it over in his hand and glanced questioningly at the older woman. “All the doors have electronic locks now so only you and your roommate can get in and out of your room. Of course, management have a copy of the key, again in case of emergencies. I’d keep that safe,” she advised him and he placed it in his jean pockets for the moment.

The door swung open behind them and Merlin glanced over surprised. The man must have been about his age, although it was clear that Merlin and this stranger were from two completely different worlds. While Merlin was pale and lithe, this new arrival was tanned and built with muscle. He had one his school clothes, shirt still tucked neatly into his trousers, and his smile was wide and accepting, welcoming you closer, as if he were actually happy to see Merlin standing there.

“Alex, this is Lance Cabrera,” Alice introduced, “He’s another scholarship student, like yourself, and he’s been put down as your buddy. Lance, this is Alex Vhalos. He’s a little shy so play nice, okay?”

“I always play nice Alice,” Lance responded with a grin, and reached out his hand towards Alex, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too…buddy?” Merlin latched on the uncertain question.

“It’s really not as strange as it sounds,” Lance assured, “Basically, I’m in your year and in some of your classes, so I’ll show you around for the first couple of weeks, helping you settle into your new school and basically be there if you need someone to talk to.”

“Oh, um…okay then,” he smiled weakly.

“And with that, I’m going to leave you guys to it,” Mordred announced, hands deep in his pockets as he slowly backed out of the room, “I have chemistry with Edwin, and I can’t afford to be late…again.”

“We’ve only been in school for three days,” Lance commented, arching an eyebrow.

“And your point is?” he questioned before smirking in Merlin’s direction, “good luck, little brother.”

“And that doesn’t sound vaguely ominous,” Merlin muttered to himself, looking up startled when Lance laughed.

“It’s really not as bad as Mordred is making it out to be. You should know that your brother’s only trying to wind you up,” Lance told him, “Come on, I’ll show you to your new room. Bye Alice!” he called over his shoulder as he exited.

“Oh, bye Alice, it was good to meet you,” Merlin fumbled the words with a quick glance back before he followed his taller buddy out. He heard Alice chuckle her amusement and murmur a goodbye under her breath before the door closed with a sound click behind them.

“So you’re here on a scholarship, what kind?” Lance wondered.

“Oh, um, English,” Merlin answered quickly.

“I heard they’re hard scholarships to get,” Lance mused and Merlin shrugged, keeping silent. He didn’t need to speak anyway because his new companion continued talking, “I’ve got a sports scholarship, football. You play?”

“Ah, no, not really,” he answered, sounding more embarrassed than he felt, “Sports…they aren’t really my thing.”

“Its fine, they’re not for everybody,” Lance shrugged, “My girlfriend, Gwen, she hates sports. Can’t stand them. Much prefers her art lessons to anything happening on the field, and her brother, Elyan. He hates football, is better at archery. You’ll probably get to meet them at dinner tonight – that’s at six-thirty by the way,” he supplied.

They turned a corner and Lance led them up a flight of stairs; large stone steps with stone banisters, and he didn’t even mock Merlin for being so enamoured by the architecture of it all. Lance just smiled and allowed him all the time he needed to just stand and stare. “I felt the same way when I first started here, it really is a beautiful place,” he offered as a way of explanation.

Merlin could only nod wordlessly in agreement.

The dormitories were on the forth and fifth floors of the building. East wings for the girls; west for the boys. There were twenty five rooms in each wing. His new room was at the far end of the wing on the fifth floor, over looking the football pitch and the vast summer gardens that seems to stretch for miles into the horizon. The locks beeped open when the fob was awkwardly swiped across the sensors and the door easily opened.

“No one has shared the other bed for, ooh, about three years now,” Lance told him, “The kid that was assigned as Arthur’s roommate – ah, Caleb Young, I think his name was – left in 3rd year after a car accident. I don’t actually know much about that,” he shrugged.

The bed was perfectly made, pristine, and two black suitcases had been placed on top – his replacement clothes that Cohen had ensured had been taken care of. The opposite side of the room was just that: opposite. The bed was a mess, freshly slept him, with random items of clothing scattered cross the top. Textbooks that weren’t needed for the day were left in a heap with the unneeded notebooks at the bottom of the bed. The walls were covered with random photographs and newspaper clippings and posters – all seeming to be focused around the one mysterious man that was Arthur Pendragon.

Merlin turned worriedly to Lance. “Do you know Arthur?” he questioned.

“He’s my best friend,” Lance answered swiftly, “Has been since 1st year.”

“Good, so, um, c-can…could you tell me about him?” Merlin questioned, “Just so I know what I’m getting into…”

“Well, that was an interesting way of putting it,” Lance started amused. “Um, Arthur is… he’s a good man. Good person, good friend – but he’s got the same problems that a good number of the students have here: he’s a stubborn, arrogant arse most of the time. Selfish as well, a little self-absorbed maybe, but that’s just because he doesn’t know you. Arthur doesn’t trust easily, and he’s been complaining about having to share his space again for the past few days so, uh, expect some kind of hostility at first.” He warned, almost sorrowfully. “But once he’s gotten to know you, he’ll loosen up and, honestly, he’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had. He’d do anything to protect the people he cares about.” He clapped Merlin on the back, “You’ll be fine. I’ll keep him in check for the first few weeks,” he winked playfully, making Merlin feel a little less like he was dreading his first encounter with his new roommate.

“Listen, I hate to leave you so quickly,” Lance looked contrite, “but I have Maths and then football practise, so I really need to get going. I’ll be back by like three, so if you need me just drop by. My doors open anytime.”

The thought of being alone terrified Merlin more than he cared to admit, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he smiled as widely as he could and said something about understanding and that he would see him at dinner – “I’ll make sure Arthur brings you down, okay?” Lance secured – and then he was standing alone in the darkened room that was what he was now supposed to call home.


	2. Chapter 2

 

Voices floated from somewhere in the distance, getting closer, and in a panic, Merlin shut the door firmly. He swallowed and watched the shadows of the room as he fumbled with the light switch. It flickered into life instantly and Merlin watched as the blackness retreated from the corners.

He shifted from foot to foot for a moment, not entirely sure of what he should do now. He had some alone time, the first of its kind since everything had happened, and well, he wasn’t sure whether he liked. Before, he’d always loved his alone time. With a overprotective father and hovering mother, and then Uncle Gaius, who was always asking him to help create some healing potion or collect some herbs from the woods across the street from their house, being alone in his room had given him the chance to just think, without interruptions. To get on with homework or his writing or practise spells from his father’s old magic book. But now, he would prefer anything but being alone right now. For a moment, he debated leaving the room and just taking a walk around the campus, maybe finding Mordred again because, although a little strange, he was better than no one at all, but he suppressed the urge.

Instead, he took hesitant steps towards what would be his bed. He thought about going through his suitcases, seeing what had been brought for him, but the thought made him feel a little uneasy so he just dragged the cases from on top of the mattress and hid them quickly beneath the bed frame, where he didn’t have to look at them just yet. His satchel and welcome kit was dropped carelessly at the foot of his bed, and Merlin filled the space at the head of the bed. His back rested against the surprisingly soft pillow (although, now that he thought about it, was he really surprised by this?) and he pulled his legs up to his chest, taking up as little space as possible. His chin rested on top of his knees and his eyes scanned the opposite side of the room, taking in the door which mostly likely led to the shared bathroom, and the large window that overlooked his bed. Although winter was nearly upon them, streams of sunlight reflected through the glass and highlighted the edges of his bag, and the papers within that had fallen out in a haphazard fashion. The file caught his eye.

He bit his bottom lip. The file, the one that contains everything he needed to know about his new life. About Alex Vhalos. He hadn’t wanted to open it when he first received it, knowing it would make everything that had happened, the subject of his nightmares, seem more real. But he had to read it, didn’t he? It was “essential to his safety”, isn’t that what Cohen had said? He couldn’t just ignore it; that would be stupid of him. At least, that’s what he told his reluctant side when he reached across the length of the bed to roughly pull the wad of papers from within his bag.

Now with the file rested in his lap, he hesitated. Long fingers tapped an unknown beat across the brown cardboard, before one hand slid to the edges, fingering the slide for a moment, before he forced himself to just open it. He took in a shaky breath, splayed hands hiding the writing from view, before he slowly removed it and read.

**Name: _Alex Vhalos_**

**Age: _16_**

**Birthday: _November 13th 1996_**

**Parents: _Rae Young (36) and Avain Vhalos (38)_**

**Parents Occupation: _Mother non-magical doctor, recently deceased, car accident; Father head of the Protection of Magical Children department of government._**

**Siblings: _Half brother - Mordred Vhalos (18)_**

**Magical Abilities: _No_**

**Blood Type: _O-_**

**Allergies: _Peanuts and Lavender_**

Merlin arched an eyebrow. Well, they certainly weren't kidding when Cohen said they had considered everything.

_**Lived with Mother until untimely death. Social services got in contact with Father, who took him in and placed him into private boarding school, Camelot Academy, with his older brother, under an English scholarship. Has had one or two romantic relationship, neither which were considered serious. Grew up homeschooled and a little isolated from society, meaning he has anxiety in social situations.** _

Merlin wasn't entirely sure what they meant by that.

_**Has one a few awards for writing, usually ones of fantasy, and even had one poem about a dragon posted in a children's magazine.** _

Well, Merlin mused, at least something's have stayed the same.

Attached to the back of the paper, was a picture. A photocopy, he guessed, of Mordred as a child, probably around five or six, and his father. He assumed it was his father anyway. The boys in the photograph looked too alike to be anything other than father and son. Both were grinning wildly up at the camera, all filled with happiness and excitement and Merlin didn't need to know them to know that this was a father who loved his son unconditionally and vice versa.

He had a photo similar, taken by his mother one summer about eight years ago, with him and his father. Hunith had decided that it was too much of a nice day to waste it inside and had packed up a picnic basket with everyone's favourites – little ham and cheese sandwiches, pickled onions, hula hoop crisps (Merlin's personal favourite) and a wild berry pavola that she had chilling in the fridge – and the mother, father and son combination had taken to the woods. There was a clearing, not far in, that he had played make believe in as a child with the neighbours kids, and they spent the afternoon there, just basking in the sunlight, messing around, laughing and joking; generally just having a good time. Balinor had taught him a new spell, one that allowed him to lift off the ground and fly through the sky. Hunith had worried the whole time but Merlin, he'd found it all exhilarating.

A lump formed in his throat at the memory and he had to quickly put the image aside, afraid he would fall into a sobbing mess.

The rest of the folder contained random snippets of a life that wasn't his own. There were certificates that stated his achievement in writing; some official, like the ones that stated his winning of the 2002 children's short story competitions, some not, like a hand decorated award with cursive writing that applauded Alex's triumph in public speaking or in getting 100% on a math's test, all signed by Rae Young. He also found the birth certificate that Cohen had spoken about. He flicked through those pages mindlessly, vaguely taking in the information and the meanings behind each other, but for the most part, he barely looked at one page for more than a few seconds.

And the last page caught his attention. He paused, his fingers hovering over the paper. It was a note written in blue ink, from Cohen. A paperclip clutched the top right corner, holding something in place. His eyes scanned with writing quickly.

_Merlin,_

_This is unprofessional of me, to take something from a crime scene, but it seemed to me that you would need this. If you can't have the real things, then this will have to do. I hope it brings you some kind of comfort._

_Andrew_

Confused, Merlin reached with shaking hands for his gift, a remembrance of home. What it was before it was marred with blood and death and violence. His heart sped up with anticipation. It was a photograph, one of the many that his mother had lovingly hung in their home that had everybody he loved dearly within it. Three year old Merlin Emrys – not Alex Vhalos - grinned with childish excitement around a mask of pink icing up at the camera, cuddled close by his family. Balinor had been holding him up, propping him against his hip. Hunith had been standing at his side, a napkin in her hand, ready to wipe away the muck that painted his little face, whilst Uncle Gaius, his partner in crime, as trying to feed him more cake. Even now, he could hear the sound of his mother scolding her brother for letting Merlin get away with anything he wanted, but her heart was never in it. He wasn’t sure who had taken it – he’d never asked. He hadn’t seemed important at the time, but now, nothing seemed more. It was just a snap, a brief flash of what his life was once like, and it made his heart hang heavy with longing.

How he wished he could go back to those days. When he would get picked up from school by his uncle, fresh from visiting his patients around the little village, and taken home to his mother, who would have prepared cakes or biscuits or sweet breads or any other manner of treats for when he got home. And he’d help his uncle tend to the garden, and his mother would help him with his homework. And, when it was bedtime, and his father got home from work, he’d curl up against his father’s stomach, using his growing beard as a pillow, and fall asleep to whatever story they’d begun reading that week. Merlin didn’t want to admit how much he’d taken those times from granted, even if they were so long ago.

Chief Inspector Cohen was right. A picture could never compare to the real things, to the people they were, but if he couldn’t be with them, an image and the warm memories that come with it…they would have to be enough.

He closed the folder and tucked it under the mattress, making sure that it wouldn’t be found, before he relaxed into the bed, photo in hand. He laid there in silence, just staring at this image, tracing the outlines of their faces, of their smiles, trying to remember the good times and, as his eyes began to get heavy, maybe he hoped they would be enough to stave of the nights of restless sleep, at least for now.

 

*

 

“I mean, really, I don’t even know who this kid is. He could have problems, you know? Like anger issues, or violent tendencies or something. He could be a danger to this school and to me. And father won’t tell me about him. Every time I ask, he just says that this kid has been through a lot and that I should ‘be gentle’ with him. What does that even mean?” Arthur complained loudly, as he kicked the ball towards Leon.

“Um, maybe it means that you shouldn’t act like your arrogant self?” he suggested with an amused grin, shifting the ball between his feet to pass it alone to Lance, who stopped it easily with a firm press of his foot on the top of the ball. Arthur shot him a frustrated glance and he sighed heavily, “Seriously Arthur, all you’ve spoken about for the past few weeks is about your new roommate. It’s really not as bad as you’re making it sound.” He tried to assure.

“Yeah, and how to do know that?”

“Um, because you’re dad would never let you room with a guy who’s likely to kill you in your sleep?” Gwaine offered.

“And besides,” Lance continued, “I met him this morning. Alex Vhalos, Mordred’s little brother.”

“So what’s he like?” Leon wondered.

Lance shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I only spoke to him for a few minutes, just enough to show him to his new room –“

“My room!” Arthur interjected, but was ignored.

“-but he seems nice enough. A little quiet and shy, I think, maybe because it’s a new school. I liked him,” he announced, “Arthur’s just being a wuss about it.”

“I am not being a wuss,” the blond objected.

Gwaine snorted. “Dude, it does sound as if you’re being one.”

“I’m not! I’m just…cautious, that’s all,” Arthur defended himself.

“Whatever you say Princess,” Gwaine brushed him off disbelievingly.

“Alex is a good kid. At least give him a chance before you pull your mightier-than-thou arsehole routine, okay?” Lance insisted.

Arthur looked like he wanted to argue again, offended by the insinuation, but held his tongue. It was probably for the best anyway, he told himself. His friends weren’t exactly sympathetic to his strives and, yeah, okay, so maybe he’s a little more invested (not obsessed, regardless of what Morgana claims) than he would normal be with a new student, but in the past, new students have never become his roommates. He liked his space. He’d grown used to it. Forgive him for not liking the sudden announcement he was going to have to share it once more.

But it was more than that. Since Caleb had left, no other new student had been assigned to be his roommate, and there had been four late comers to CamelotAcademy since then. Uther was always happy to have them placed in different rooms, except for this kid. There had to be something more to it than was on the surface and every time he asked about it (and he had asked a few times), his father just gave him this look that told him to drop the subject. And not the normal ‘I can’t handle this conversation anymore, you’re annoying me, please stop talking’ look that he had been on the receiving end of many times before. This one was more of an ‘I can’t tell you anything, not because I don’t want to but because I can’t, so please drop the subject’ look. If anything, he made him more suspicious, more desperate to get information.

Because there was something; something important about this Alex Vhalos (and not that he was Mordred’s little brother, which made him even less of a trustworthy person in his books). And I will find out what it is, he vowed to himself.

“Arthur?” Lance’s voice ripped him from his thoughts and he jerked violently, blinking surprised. His friend peered at him worriedly.

“Huh?”

“Be nice to Alex, okay?” Lance ordered firmly.

Arthur faked a wide, friendly smile. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

Gwaine shuddered overdramatically. “God, don’t do that. It’s like the Joker plotting to kill Batman.”

He scowled darkly. “Just kick the ball,” he demanded, ignoring the snickering of his so-called friends.

Coach Jonas was a slave driver, Arthur decided a few hours later as he trudged sluggishly up the staircase to his room. After the quick warm up, they’d been told to line up and try to get a goal around Percy, the best goal keeper in the league. Those who failed had to do suicide runs. Arthur, who had barely scrapped a goal and Gwaine were the only ones that succeeded (although Arthur suspected that Percy went a little easy on his boyfriend of four weeks now). Still, Jonas had insisted that at least Arthur participate in the runs – to “boost morale” he had claimed.

So he had, however reluctantly. Now, he could barely feel his feet – felt the need to watch them to make sure they were still there. He was sweaty and smelling, his body ached and the need to sleep was overpowered only by the need to eat. All he wanted to do was shower and maybe get some feeling back into his legs before he had to make his way back down the stairs to the main hall.

Arthur clicked his door open with a tired swipe of his fob, and pulled to a sudden halt when he saw the lights shining above him. He frowned. He was certain he had turned that off before he had left that morning. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, and an unknown figure caught his eye on the usually empty bed. His frowned deepened. With all the aches of football practise, he’d forgotten about the unwanted arrival.

He dropped his bags to the floor with a loud clatter, more than hoping that it would jerk the kid awake and was a little disappointed when he didn’t. He eyed the slumbering figure with distain and couldn’t help taking a curious step forward for a closer look.

His new roommate – Alex – was all angles and sharp edges, each one catching the fluorescent light above. Slightly curly black hair hung across alabaster skin and curved around the one strangely large ear that he could see. His eyes were completely closed in slumber – not like Caleb, who he had discovered on terrifying night slept with his eyes open – and long black eyelashes rested delicately on his cheekbones. His lips, rosy red and a little bitten, were parted, stirring the fabric of the pillow beneath his head with every breath. He looked…almost angelic. Arthur quickly shook the thought from his mind.

Alex sniffed in his sleep and rolled towards Arthur. He froze in place, eyes wide, and watched as an expression of distress crossed his face. From this position, he could see the redness around his eyes, and the drying tear tracks on his cheeks. In his hand, in a white-knuckled grip, he clutched something to his chest – a piece of paper, Arthur guessed, or a picture; maybe of his deceased mother.

Automatically, Arthur felt as if he was intruding and he took a long step back. On the bed, Alex whimpered and curled into himself. He watched him for a little longer, before retreating into the bathroom.

He was in desperate need of a shower.

 

*

 

Merlin jerked awake violently, nearly rolling off the side of his bed, panting heavily as his heart nearly pounded out of his chest. He looked frantically around the room in front of him, and fear lurched within him at the unknown figure standing over him. For a moment, he was back there. Back with his nightmares, with those horrible memories. It took a moment for him to realise exactly where he was.

The man standing over him – probably Arthur, he guessed, now with a clearer mind – was, well, gorgeous for lack of better word. Blond hair, still damp, hung in messy waves to just above his board shoulders. Wide blue eyes, like the sea at the beach in Spain Merlin had visited once a few years back, stared down at him through a frame of blond eyelashes.

They stared at each other wide eyed for a moment, neither moving, and Merlin nervously licked his bottom lip. He swore, even if it was just for a moment, that Arthur followed the line of his tongue.

And then Arthur’s pink lips pulled into a sneer, his features hardening, his eyes burning with contempt, and suddenly he wasn’t so attractive anymore.

“Get up;” he stated, a harsh edge to his voice, “It’s time for dinner.”

Well that was rude, Merlin mentally scowled. He sighed heavily, sitting up slowly. His hand pressed against the bed covers in assistance and something poked sharply into the soft skin of his palm. Alarm hit him almost as soon as the memory did, and he frenetically tried to smooth the crumbled image in his hand. It was creased but not completely ruined, he was pleased to note, letting out a small breath of relief. He was stopped for a moment, needing to take in their happy faces one more time.

Arthur watched the reaction in the reflection in the mirror. The relief that crossed Alex’s face, so intense, sparked curiosity within him and for a moment, he thought about asking about it. But something told him it was personal, too personal to share with someone he had just met.

“Be nice,” Lance’s words echoed back to him and he took in a resolved sigh. Lance had a way of saying things that made you just want to obey what he says and Arthur, even after six years of friendship, had never worked out the secret to ignoring the order. And Gwen refused to share her secret. So he’d be nice, he’d try to be nice.

“You should hurry up,” Arthur insisted softly, using his best ‘I’m only trying to help’ voice, “Dinner has already started.”

Merlin blinked in surprise. Okay, that was a massive mood swing – Arthur seemed almost…pleasant. He thought about questioning it, but decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead, he nodded in understanding and pushing himself onto his feet, quickly folding the photograph into quarters, carefully putting the only thing he had from Merlin Emrys into his jean pockets. He awkwardly straightened his sleep-addled clothes. He sat down and slide on his converses, purposely ignoring the overconfident figure of his new roommate at the other end of the room that seemed to take up all the remaining space in the area. He wondered whether there was really any space for him here. Merlin ran a hand through his hair, attempting to straighten the now knotted locks. Arthur moved purposely towards the door, with wide strides, and Merlin stood up quickly, looking at the blond expectantly.

Arthur paused as he made to move out the door. He gave him the once over, dragging is eyes over Merlin’s wiry frame as if he were judging him for something, and Merlin shifted awkwardly under the attention. He inclined his head, as if silently beckoning him forward, before leaving and Merlin hurriedly followed. He stopped only to make sure that the door was closed properly, waiting for the resound click he had heard early.

He wasn’t sure what to make of Arthur. First, he’d seemed like an arse, and then it was as if he were a completely different person. Maybe it was a different person – could alien’s snatch bodies that quickly? He’d have to check. He still couldn’t understand the initial hostility. They had never met before, hadn’t even had a proper introduction now, and yet he had acted as if Merlin was no better than the scum on the bottom of his shoes. And then he had changed – he could have realised his mistakes, Merlin guessed, for treating a stranger so harshly but he supposed the more likely option was he’d remembered Lance’s words – the man had said he’d talk to his friend. But even now, he was a few flights of stairs ahead of him, seemingly with no intention of slowing down to allow Merlin to catch up. Maybe he has PMS or something? Merlin mentally chuckled at the thought.

He wanted to ask about it, point out the hot-cold attitude that Arthur was conducting himself in, but the very thought of a confrontation made his chest tightening painfully and panic rise. Before, maybe he would have, but now…no, he would keep his thoughts to himself, at least for now. He wasn’t sure whether he could take this for a whole year.

The main hall was this huge space with dark brown, vanished floorings and rows and rows of matching tables. Hanging lights, like chandeliers, brightened the space. Students, most still dressed in their uniforms, sat around the tables, leaning close to chat with each other or bowing their heads to focus on the food in front of them – Haddock and baked potatoes, Merlin recognised as he passed one table. He supposed schools that this would only have the best. The parents paid enough for it. Arthur veered off in the direction of the food counter and Merlin hurried to follow him. He mimicked his actions, collecting a tray as he joined the line and he muttered a thank you when the dinner lady handed over the plate.

At the end of the line, he stood awkwardly, having lost sight of Arthur as he fumbled with his knife and fork, at a loss of where to go, until Lance at the far end of the room appeared above the heads of the seated students, calling his name and waving him over. The tension dropped from his shoulders slightly and he made his way over to the familiar face, only slowing when he reached the table and the faces of people he didn’t know looked away from their food to eye him curiously. Arthur barely looked up from where he was sitting, instead focusing on shoving food into his mouth.

Lance moved over on the bench and tapped the space created beside him. He smiled warmly. “Come on Alex, before the food gets cold.”

“Oh, um, y-yes,” Merlin agreed and tentatively took the seat, settling the tray in front of him. His hands dropped to his lap and he offered a shy smile to the rest of the table.

Lance clapped a warm hand on his shoulder, welcoming and comforting in comparison to the icy reception from his new roommate. “Guys, this is Alex Vhalos, he’s a new student here. Alex, these are my friends. They’ll help take care of you when I’m not around. This is Gwen, my girlfriend, and her brother, Elyan-“

Gwen smiled sweetly at him, leaning over her boyfriend to wave and mouth the words ‘hello’ to him. Her manner eluded something maternal and kind that made Merlin relax and he smiled in return. She was still wearing her uniform, shirt tucked into her skirt, and long curly brown hair hung over her shoulder, framing her heart shaped face. Elyan looked a lot like her sister, with the same dark hair on the top of his head and dark brown eyes. His demeanour was similar, welcoming, but much more interested in the food in front of him than actually meeting a new person. Merlin found it a relief of pressure to not have all the attention focused on him, yet not a blatant disregard like Arthur was currently showing.

“-Leon and Morgana, Arthur’s sister-“

Leon’s smile was polite, through a mouthful of fish, and he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, his long fingers running through the ends of his reddish brown curls. The facial hair, seeming to still be growing, that framed his face seemed to make him look older than the others around him.

Morgana was the complete opposite to Leon beside her. Long black hair braided with gold bands hung down her back, contrasting her pale skin, and her blue eyes watched him closely, in a way that was much like Uther. Her chin was rested on her hand and she smiled widely at him, one of those smiles that just made Merlin feel as if she were putting on a show. She was nothing like her brother, Merlin noted, not in looks or in personalities it seemed. She was powerful, that was easy to see. She oozed confidence and magic, just pure magic, and Merlin wondered whether she could see the same in him.

“-and that’s Gwaine and Percival, but we call him Percy,” Lance finished.

Merlin blinked, startled at the names. So these where his police protection then. Percy was practically double his size, with huge arms and arching shoulders. A friendly giant, Merlin decided when Percy grinned at him. In contrast, Gwaine was smaller, probably about Lance’s height he would guess, with long brown hair that curved around his neck and an enticing smile on his handsome face. He met Merlin’s gaze, light with recognition, and winked playfully, reassuringly. A game, that was easy to see, but that didn’t stop Merlin from flushing and Gwaine’s smile turned smug.

Leon nudged his friend in the side. “Stop flirting with the new kid,” he scolded gently, “Percy’s sitting right there.”

Percy chuckled deeply. “It doesn’t matter. He knows who he belongs to.”

“Oh, I love it when you get all possessive,” Gwaine teased, leaning forward onto his hands with a self-assured grin.

“Urk, you two sicken me,” Morgana’s nose wrinkled, “How long until the honeymoon stage is over again?”

“About 3 more weeks,” Arthur replied with a laugh and Merlin noticed how much brighter he seemed now that he was surrounded by friends. He tried not to be just a little insulted by that.

“I wouldn’t trust that judgement. That’s what he said about Lance and Gwen, remember?” Elyan reminded. “It’s been two years and they haven’t bloody finished yet.”

“That’s because Lance-a-lot here knows how to keep the magic alive,” Morgana wriggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Morgana…” Gwen let out an embarrassed hiss whilst Lance just looked uncomfortable. She seemed quick to change the subject, something that only seemed to amuse the older Pendragon more. “Alex,” she finally said, a tinge of desperation in her voice, and Merlin froze like a deer in headlights.

“Tells about yourself,” she encouraged.

“Uh, what do you want to know?” he replied awkwardly.

“I don’t know; anything. Um, what’s your favourite colour? Movie? Television show? Band?” she pressed.

“Uh, red I guess, would be my favourite colour,” Merlin answered awkwardly. Vaguely, he wondered whether he should be responding as himself - what would Alex Vhalos’ favourite colour be? He wasn’t sure. Although, he supposed, telling the truth would make remembering the lie much easier. “I liked the new Bond movie-“ the last movie he had gone to see with his dad “-and I guess Doctor Who would be my favourite television show-“ every weekend, he and his mum would sit and watch and complain and cry together, a tradition “-and I like The Beatles and the Drifters.”

“Favourite Beatles song?” Arthur questioned his voice low. Merlin blinked at him, surprised that the man was actually talking to him. The blond just stared at him blankly, waiting for a response, acting as if this wasn’t strange behaviour.

“…Twist and Shout,” he finally riposted. I used to dance around the house on Saturday mornings with mum, and we’d try to outdo each other with our terrible dancing skills…

Arthur gave him a sharp nod in response and returned his gaze to his food. Worriedly, he wondered whether that was the right answer. Was there supposed to be a right answer?

“Just ignore my baby brother,” Morgana told him firmly, “Daddy’s making him share his room and he’s throwing his toys out of the pram.” She mocked.

Arthur’s head shot up to glare darkly at his sister. “I’m not being a baby. I was being nice, but clearly we’re not going to get along.”

Merlin tried to keep the offended look off his face. He hadn’t even done anything. He’d been asleep when Arthur had come back and he’d barely said two words to him. How was he supposed to know that he doesn’t like him? Not that he cared. Because if anyone was as much of a clotpole as Arthur was, Merlin didn’t want to be liked.

Lance frowned deeply at him, disappointment clear on his face. “I thought I told you to be nice,” he chided.

“I tried,” Arthur retorted.

“When?” Merlin blurted out. He wasn’t even aware it had happened until Arthur’s glare fixated on him. His stomach tightened with panic and maybe a little fear and he dropped his gaze, picking at his food.

Hurt and anger rose in Arthur’s stomach. When had he been nice? He may not have been wearing a sign to announce it, but he had tried to be good, to be helpful, and ungrateful cad didn’t even notice. He gritted his teeth and opened his mouth, fully prepared to tell where he could shove it, when he saw Lance’s disapproving look over the table. It was as if all the tension left him in one moment, leaving only defeat. He had tried, a very small amount, admittedly, but still. It just wasn’t worth it to argue.

He sighed heavily, shaking his head, before he stood up abruptly. “I’m done,” he muttered angrily, roughly picking up his plate, still littered with food, and stormed away from the table. There was a discomfited silence as Arthur put his plate away and stalked from the food.

Merlin cringed in embarrassment. “Sorry…” he whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for Alex,” Gwen stated resolutely, her expression stubborn, “its Arthur whose needs to apology.”

“Maybe I should try talking to him?” Leon offered.

“No,” Morgana sniffed, lifting a folded napkin from her lap and laying it over her empty place. She stood up. “I’ll talk to him.”

She brushed down her skirt delicately, stepping over the bench and carrying her tray away. Her hair swayed sensually with her hips.

As soon as she was out of ear shot, Gwaine burst out laughing. “God, Arthur’s in trouble.”

“I pity that boy, I really do,” Lance added.

“Well, I think he deserves it. He’s acting like a prat for no reason,” Gwen countered with a small frown.

“I don’t think anyone deserved Morgana’s wrath, not even the princess,” Gwaine commented.

“M-Morgana’s wrath?” Merlin questioned hesitantly. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know.

“Oh, her anger is legendary,” Leon replied, “Arthur doesn’t stand a chance.”

“She’s not going to hurt him is she?” he asked worriedly.

“Of course not, but then again, she doesn’t need to,” Percy assured with a shrug of one shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

Morgana cornered him on the stairs, half way between the fourth and fifth floors. Arthur had heard her coming a few minutes back. Just as his sister had developed the skill of sneaking up on people, he had acquired the ability to sense her presence. He had ignored it at first – he knew full well what it would be about – and besides, if he could get to his room fast enough, Morgana would have no choice but to delay this little chat.

But of course, he forgot that she was faster than she looked. A perfectly manicured hand had closed around the collar of his shirt before he’d even realised it, yanking him backwards and spinning him to put his back to the wall. It was dizzying and he had to lean against it in support, accidently boxing himself in.

Morgana’s expression was blank, arms folded elegantly across her chest, as she closed the distance, leaving him unable to make the escape he was frantically planning. She arched an eyebrow. Arthur would never admit how much that made him sweat, although he was more than grateful that everyone else was busy with dinner and would never see this confrontation.

“So what was that all about?” she demanded.

“What was what?” Arthur tried to play the fool.

It didn’t work.

She glared at him, clearly in no mood for playing games. “You know what I mean Arthur. I’m talking about how you treated Alex. He’s new here, that’s scary enough, and on a scholarship – you know first-hand what Lance’s first experiences here were – so the last thing he needs you acting like some self-righteous twat.”

“I was being nice, I tried,” Arthur insisted, “Okay, so maybe I wasn’t exactly welcoming at first, but I remembered what Lance told me at practise, and I tried. It’s not my fault if he’s too much of a dunderhead to notice it.”

Morgana flicked him angrily in the arm and Arthur yelped, clutching at the now sore spot.

“Stop being a spoilt brat,” she ordered, “I understand you don’t want to share your room, I get that, but you know Dad wouldn’t put you two together unless he had a reason for it. And Alex seems nice enough, considering I’ve only had one conversation with him. In fact, he seemed absolutely terrified by the whole encounter. And you really didn’t help!”

“What did I do?”

“You turned asking about his favourite song into something mirroring the Spanish Inquisition,” she retorted, “The poor kid looked like he was going to throw up all over his dinner.”

“It was just a question!” Arthur defended, “I was curious!”

“Well you could have been friendlier about it,” Morgana responded sharply, before sighing, “Look; Alex seems like an alright kid, despite who his brother is.”

It was no secret that there was no lost love between Morgana and Mordred, although Arthur suspected that there was actually a lot of love between them and they were just in denial – not that he’d ever tell his sister that. He quite liked his balls were they were thank you very much.

“Just…try a little hard, yeah?” she continued, “If you don’t like each other, then you don’t like each other. He hasn’t even been here a full day and you’re ready at his throat.”

Arthur’s leant back against the wall, and ran a hand over his face. “So what should I do?”

“Apologise for how you acted at dinner,” Morgana stated, “Try and show him the side of you that I actually don’t want to repeatedly slam with a car.”

Arthur feigned disbelief. “There’s a part of me that you do?”

She rolled her eyes and flicked him again.

 

*

 

Merlin suppressed a yawn and wiggled awkwardly on the mattress, trying to find a more comfortable position. He was tired, incredibly so actually, but every time his eyes would close, he could feel the monsters closing in on him; could hear the screams and pleads. It made his chest tighten and his skin itch. He’d open his eyes quickly, trying to draw some comfort from the light streaming through the mostly closed window that broke through the suffocating darkness.

It was a never-ending pattern, one that he had yet been able to break. Usually when he slept, if at all, it was because of pure exhaustion and he couldn’t fight the nightmares anymore.

When he moved, his bed creaked and he stilled instantly, breath catching and he wondered whether Arthur had heard that. Going to bed that night had been awkward, incredibly so, with his new roommate not even glancing in his direction, keeping his head lowered to the floor as he moved around. Merlin had debated trying to say something, but thought better of it. Besides, what would he say? And right now, the last thing he needed was to annoy his roommate because he kept him awake.

But apparently, he was already away.

“Alex…” his voice seemed to boom in the blanket of silence that consumed them.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, y-yes? Am I keeping you awake?”

“No, I was already awake…” he trailed off for a moment, before sighing loudly, “Okay, um, I just want to say...I’ve been told I wasn’t acting…appropriately for our first meeting in…and I should apologise for that.”

Merlin was befuddled. “Uh, s-sorry?”

Arthur groaned and gritted his teeth. “Don’t make me say it again. You know what I said.”

“You…you don’t have to…”

“No, I do. I know I do,” his voice was firm and stubborn, making Merlin’s jaw snap shut, cutting off whatever he was going to say, “Look, I was…a prat, and I shouldn’t have been. So-“

“It’s okay,” Merlin interrupted lowly, “I…accept your apology.”

“Oh, good…” Arthur replied, and the light from outside highlighted the arch of his back when he rolled over onto his stomach. Merlin tried to tell himself his heart beat hadn’t picked up at the image, no matter how mouth-watering it may be.

 

*

 

Gwaine met him outside his door the next morning. Merlin had blinked at him momentarily surprised. When the dreams that woken him an hour earlier, Arthur had been up. He’d looked a little apologetic – as if he were the one who hadn’t woken him up – and said that he and the guys usually went for a run in the mornings before lessons, apparently needing to keep up their fitness routine to stay on the football team – or something like that. To be honest, he had been half asleep at the time, partly in reality and partly lost in darkness. Still, he’d questioned Gwaine about it.

The man barked out a laugh. “My relationship with my bed is too important to ruin it all for doing laps around a field at six o’clock in the morning.”

Merlin smiled slightly.

He adjusted his hold on the strap of his satchel, and closed the door firmly behind him. He didn’t really know what to say. They’d only had a brief meeting after all and, really, what were you supposed to say to your bodyguard? Gwaine didn’t seem to have any qualms about walking in silence though. His grin remained firmly in place as he walked towards the main staircase.

“So, Alex, what’s your first lesson?” Gwaine questioned suddenly.

“Uh, um…” Merlin fumbled in his back for the sheet of paper that his class schedule had been printed on. He examined it quickly, momentarily forgetting what day it was, before he answered, “Um, Biology?”

“With Mr Wilson?”

Merlin hummed in response.

“I had him last year. He’s a good teacher, a little eccentric and man he can kick your arse if you don’t do the work, but a good teacher,” Gwaine told him, “I think you’d like him. This classroom is on the second floor – I think Gwen has him now as well.”

 

A feeling of relief moved in him. At least he wouldn’t be completely alone during his first lesson. Gwen was nice and she’d acted a little like his mother – overprotective and ready to defend her children at a moment’s notice. It was…nice.

“So, um, where’s Percy?” he wondered politely, trying to make conversation.

“Sleeping, the lucky sod,” Gwaine replied, “He doesn’t have lessons until 10:30 so he gets a late start.”

“Oh. That’s good…” Merlin winced at how awkward he sounded, and couldn’t help cursing himself a little. He was being stupid. Gwaine was supposed to be protecting him, he’s not going to suddenly attack him if he says something wrong – besides, he hardly seems like the type – but still, the fears were there, just spreading into his subconscious and he hadn’t found a way to stop them.

He hadn’t noticed he had stopped walking until his eyes suddenly focus on Gwaine’s face, hovering worriedly in front of his. He let out a yelp and stumbled backwards, nearly falling down a flight of stairs if it weren’t for the excellent reflexes of Gwaine, who grabbed the wrist of his flailing hand and roughly yanked him forward.

“Hey, are you okay?” he questioned worriedly.

“Yeah, I-I’m good,” he fumbled over the words.  “I…” he raised his head to look at Gwaine’s face and quickly averted his gaze, “…s-sorry…”

“It’s fine mate, really, you don’t have to apologise, just…” Gwaine trailed off for a moment, “…you don’t have to worry, about anything. Percy and I…we may be newbies at this, but we know what to do. Whoever did that to your family – he won’t get close to you. We’d kill him before we let him get you.”

“D-don’t…” Merlin shook his head. That word. Kill. For him. He wouldn’t…he couldn’t have that blood on his hands. He couldn’t cope with it.

A strong, warm hand cupped his shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. “Focus on lessons and grieving, okay Merlin?” he said, keeping his voice low to stop anyone from overhearing, “Let the police catch this bastard and let us keep you safe, even if it’s from your own feet,” he joked weakly. Merlin appreciated it. “Come on, class time. Mr Wilson may be a good teacher, but he is scary when you’re late to his lessons.”

 

*

 

As it turned out, Gwaine was right. He did like Mr Wilson, but not in the way that had been previous thought. He was funny and snide and didn’t tolerate any kind “foolishness” in his class and definitely seemed to know what he was talking about – and that reminded him of his uncle.

Gaius had been the same. He’d loved biology, plants and wildlife and the secrets that life held, and had tried to share that love with his nephew since he was little. He could remember being a toddler and being taken into the greenhouse, which had seemed like some faraway magical world, tucked away behind plastic walls and shielded by the overgrown oak tree outside. He remembered Gaius pointing out this flower and this plant and explaining the healing qualities each possessed. He hadn’t really understood what he was being told, he’d been much too young at the time, but he’d loved every minute, even more so when he got older and Gaius trusted him enough to pick the plant to be brewed into a potion or brew that he would sell in the little herb shop around the corner from their house. Merlin hadn’t really known much about the business side of it, but he had been told many a time to thank his uncles for this and that, or to ask him whether he had any more of “that lovely honeysuckle oil he had last week. It was simply magnificent!”

Vaguely, he wondered what would become of his uncle’s legacy.

Gwen nudged him, amusement written on her face when he drifted off, and he flushed with embarrassment. He sat up straighter and put on his best ‘I’m paying attention’ face, which really only succeeded in making her laugh, something she had to quickly smoother behind her hand. It made him feel lighter, like he was joking around with friends and people who cared about him; like he was just a normal teenage boy with normal teenage boy problems. It made a change.

“Mr Vhalos,” the voice, a little gravelled with age, of Mr Wilson jerked him from his thoughts, “seeing as you’re our new student, why don’t you take the lead and answer the question for us?”

“Huh?” he replied dumbly, initiating a titter of laughs across the class.

“Mr Vhalos, it would probably do you better if you actually paid attention to what’s happening at the front of the class,” Wilson answered, tapping the white board behind him firmly.

“Y-yes sir,” Merlin stuttered out.

“Now, we’re recovering the basics, to make sure that everyone is up to speed before we delve into the difficult parts. So tell me, Mr Vhalos, can you name me a planet that can treat nausea and kidney pains?

Merlin remembered this. It had been more of a practical explanation. When he had been sick as a child – and he was sick a lot, to be honest – Gaius had always said that using his planet would make him feel better, and it had worked just as promised. So he answered instantly. “Alfalfa.”

For a split second, Wilson looked impressed. “Very good,” he praised, “What else is Alfalfa used for?”

“It’s used as fodder for livestock,” he replied.

“And what else can be used for fighting nausea?”

“Mentha,”

“And what’s another name for Mentha?”

“It’s commonly what’s used in mints,” Merlin finished.

“How do you know all of this?” Wilson wondered, a pondering look on his face.

Merlin shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “…My uncle taught me. He was an, um, herbology expert I guess.”

“Well, he taught you well,” Wilson nodded once in understanding. He straightened up and glanced around the quiet classroom. “Well? Why aren’t you all taking notes?”

There was a scramble of paper as notebooks were opened and then scratching as people began their untidy scrawl. Merlin couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. What he had been taught had never come in useful anywhere other than within his little community, and even more so, he was glad that what Gaius had told him had stuck in his mind. It was as if a part of him was still there.

“Did your uncle really teach you all that stuff?” Gwen whispered.

Merlin hummed. “Yeah – some of them even work. He was always the one that used to look after us when we were sick. He helped me back some of the potions for him.”

“Potions? Ooh, that sounds all magical,” Gwen teased.

“Well, if my family had magic, my uncle was definitely the one to inherit it,” he smiled slightly.

When he made the leave the classroom at the end of the lesson, Merlin couldn’t resist shooting the teacher a wide smile. He blinked surprised and offered one hesitantly back. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly the same as receiving the smile from Gaius, something he had hoped probably a little too much, but it was enough. Enough to make that longing ache in his chest that had settled at the beginning of the lesson, just a little more bearable.

Of course, that good feeling had completely disappeared when he met Cedric. He’d been talking quietly to Gwen as they exited the classroom when he’d accidently walked into him. Looking back, it was probably easy to realise that Cedric had been waiting for him outside the door. He was a little on the scrawny side, none of the weight that Percy and Lance and even Arthur (not that he had noticed) had, but he held himself in such a way, head held high with unexplained superiority that Merlin knew instantly Cedric wasn’t someone he should get involved with. Unfortunately, the man seemed all too pleased to get involved with him.

“You should watch where you’re going,” he commented, his voice cold and distant, and his arms folded across his chest.

“Ah, um…s-sorry, I didn’t…” Merlin stuttered uncertainly, automatically drawing his arms closer to his chest, like it could protect him from the stand off.

“Do you always stutter?” Cedric interrupted sharply, “Or is that just a thing you’ve decided to put on, because really, it’s a little pathetic.”

Merlin’s jaw shut with a click. Another conflict, another difference between new and old Merlin. He hated it. He wished he could just glare and shout and put the arsehole in his place, but he wouldn’t. Not anymore. So he just stood there and listened as Cedric laughed mockingly.

“What got nothing to say now? Because you seemed to have a lot to say before,” he commented.

Gwen glared darkly at the other student and stood in front of the silent boy, acting as a barrier between the two. “Oh shove off Sigan. You’ve just got your panties in a twist because someone proved they know more than you. Really, you should be used to this by now.”

Cedric’s eyes narrowed towards her and his jaw clenched shut tightly, the sound of gnawing teeth almost too loud. He wanted to say something that much was clear. Maybe Gwen had struck a nerve. Or maybe he just really didn’t like her, although Merlin found that a little hard to believe. Either way, she was ignored in favour of a twisted smirk in his direction. “Oh look, Ears here has himself a little mother to look after him. Does she tuck you in at night and make sure you wash behind your ears too?”

Merlin didn’t answer, his ears burning red, but then he didn’t have to. A shadow fell over them and he saw the fleeting look of panic that crossed through Cedric’s eyes. He inclined his head backwards and couldn’t help the relief that swelled up in him at the familiar face of Percival. He had a dangerous look on his face, as if he were fully prepared to break a few bones if this conversation wasn’t going the way he wanted, and it was then he fully understood how this man had made it through police academy training. Anyone with their head on straight would give up any information they had once that look was aimed at them.

“Percy,” Gwen sounded relieved.

“Is something wrong here?” Percy demanded the question.

“Of course not,” Cedric’s grin was fake and a little unnerving, “We were just…welcoming the new kid to this establishment. Weren’t we?”

There was a murmur of agreement from the two beside him, who Merlin later found were called Gilli and Tauren.

“And now that we’ve done that,” he continued easily, already taking small steps back, “We’ll be going now.”

“I’ll see you on the field,” was all Percy said in reply. Apparently, it was a little more terrifying than Merlin had originally thought. Cedric tensed slightly, just the littlest of hitches in the arch of his shoulder, and send a weak smile over his shoulder in response. Percy watched the trio hurry down the corridor, frown still set in place.

“What did they say?” he questioned.

“N-nothing, they didn’t…” Merlin had started to say, when Gwen spoke over them with an agitated eye roll.

“You know Sigan, he hates to be shown up,” she replied, before turning to him with a proud smile, “And Alex here may have just found his element.”

Still Percy’s hard expression stayed in place. “If they say anything else, you tell me okay?”

“Why? Are you dangerous?” Merlin worried.

Gwen shrugged. “Not really. They think, because they have magic, they’re better than everyone else. It’s stupid really. I mean, loads of people have magic at this school, and they don’t get any special treatment, so it’s not exactly an advantage.”

“But their pride is wounded easily,” Percy added, “And are most likely to use their magic to get back at you.” The look in his eyes was clear: and you can’t fight back.

“Oh, okay, I understand…” Merlin nodded.

“I wouldn’t worry too much though, I’ll sort it out,” Percy said the last part as if it were a vow and that didn’t really do anything to make Merlin feel better.

Neither did hearing at dinner that Cedric Sigan was in the medical wing because of a foul that Gwaine had delivered during practise. Arthur had reprimanded him about it over dinner – “what would the team do it Jonas had benched you? You’re one of our best players! Don’t ruin the Knights chances of winning this league because of that stupid whiny brat” – but Gwaine had only seemed smug.

 

*

 

Chief Inspector Greg Cohen grimaced as he entered the scene of the crime. He’d walked around what once would have been a warm, welcoming kitchen many a time since the call from a concerned neighbour that they hadn’t seen the Emrys family in a few days, something completely out of character for them, and still he couldn’t get used to the damage this one room conveyed. In a way, he supposed that was a good thing.

Hunith, Balinor and Gaius Emrys had been held captive in their own home for four days and tortured, forced to watch each other die before finally succumbing themselves. There seemed to be no reason for it. The Emrys’ were good people, friendly and kind, according to the neighbours. Hunith had taught at the local nursery, Balinor had been a zoologist, expertise in magical creatures, and Gaius had been the local medicine man as it were. What possible reason would someone have for doing this?

Normally, in a case like this, he would assume that it was done for fun – a sickening truth that he had seen many times before – but he had been told otherwise.

Cohen stood in the middle of the hallway for a moment, glancing between the two doorways: one which lead to the kitchen, now filled with the suited up forensic team, who had been discovering random slices of skin hidden in different coves for days now; the other which lead to the living room. He eyed the large piece of furniture, the wooden cabinet that was apparently a family heirloom, the only thing that could be seen through the arching doorway.

That was where they had found their son, Merlin. He’d been fading in and out of sleep when he was found, pressed tightly into himself. He was mumbling to himself, small squeaks of panic and fear and tearful hiccups littering his speech, and it had taken them all of two seconds to realise this boy had seen everything.

Merlin had been there the whole time. He’d watched those bastards break into his house and mutilate his family – and he’d been powerless to stop it. Cohen jerked his gaze away from the room. He couldn’t imagine what that must have been like.

He turned his attention to the kitchen and, sidestepping the puddle of blood in the doorway, Cohen cleared his throat, drawing attention towards him.

“What have you found?” he asked loudly.

His partner, Clive Barton, a dark haired mid-aged man who had been involved in these kinds of things for far too long, approached him and held up an evidence bag. Cohen lifted it slightly with the ends of his fingers, letting its contents catch the light. He examined it curiously.

It was a circular object, like a giant coin, about the size of a coaster, with swirling engravings along the golden surface. The certain resembled what must have been the head of some kind of monster; a dragon maybe, Cohen guessed, taking in the silhouette of glaring eyes and dangerously sharp teeth. Flecks of blood had seemed to have seeped into the gaps. It seemed to glimmer, sparkle, and Cohen didn’t have to be an expert to know what it was.

He sighed heavily. “Magic, great,” he huffed, “so what is it?”

“We’re not sure,” Barton shrugged, “It looks a bit like a rune.”

“Where’d you find it?” Cohen demanded, “Surely someone must have noticed a huge chunk of gold lying about.”

“Greg, it was found under the flooring,” Barton explained, a hint of disbelief in his voice at the very idea, “We pulled back the dining table and one of the floorboards looked as if it had been wretched from the screws. We found this inside. It must have been important to go to that much trouble to hide it.”

“Must be,” Cohen murmured, “I can ask Merlin about at our next meeting. Maybe he recognises it.”

“So, um, are we going to report it?” Barton questioned hesitantly.

Cohen paused. Officially, he should. He knew that. If magic was involved in any way, shape or form, it was expected for every officer to report it back and call in the unit that specially trained for the appearance of magic. The team was trained from first entering of the police academy and, although Cohen himself had taken a few classes out of interest and Barton had years of experience behind him, but that was nothing in comparison with the knowledge and weapons that the magical forces possessed. They’d be able to handle anything this case could throw at them but…but he couldn’t. He just…couldn’t. Passing the case, this case, over to someone else…no. He wasn’t going to let that happen. He had to know the truth, had to figure it out.

“No,” he finally answered, “Let’s keep it between us for now. Tell the others it was a trinket if they ask, something that has no connection to the case.” Cohen discreetly slid the evidence bag into his coat pocket, “Now let’s go find out what the hell this thing is.”

Barton eyed his partner with a critical gaze, giving nothing away – although that was hardly uncharacteristic. It one of Barton’s many talents and, when they had first been teamed together, had been a little unnerving. But now, all Cohen did was arch an eyebrow.

Finally Barton nodded in understanding, an oddly approving look on his face. “Yeah, I thought so. Come on, I think I know someone who can help us out.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Blood…so much of it, he remembers. Hitting the once clean floors in horrific and grotesque patterns._

_And screams. Always accompanied with screams. Ones of panic and fear; of pain and desperation. There was pleading too. Begging. As if that would stop them. “We don’t know who the dragon lord is,” Gaius had shouted, anguish filling his voice, “Just stop…please stop!”_

_Then his mother had cried out, and then her silence was abrupt. Shift and clean. He didn’t even hear the gurgling sound as blood poured from her slit throat. His uncle had let out a bitter sob and his father had roared as if his heart had been ripped out and all he was now only anger. He pulled at the binds that held him, the chair scrapping across the floorboards, but he was unable to get loose._

_Like him. Like Merlin. Stuck and powerless, as he had been since his father had forced him inside here. How many days ago was that now? He couldn’t be sure. It felt as if he’d been crying for months now. His eyes were sore, no doubt red, and his throat was scratching, aching, from all the yelling he had done. But no one ever seemed to hear him._

_So he was stuck there, watching as the lives of his family were ended in the worst possible way. He’d tried looking away, shielding from the sight, but he couldn’t stop the noises and that was worse. He couldn’t stand to hear their agony._

_“…ex…”_

_Now, he could hear a voice, something familiar yet not right. He’d never heard other voices here before – just Gaius pleading, mum bawling, dad bellowing, the murderer cackling his amusement as he played his monstrous game. He’d never made a sound before, and this voice. It sounds as if…it were in the room with him._

_“…Alex…”_

_Not his name, no. But yes, his name. He struggled to remember exactly what that meant as the cries got louder and louder, almost deafening, and his ears rang at the sound. He squeezed his eyes shut and clamped his hands over his ears, choking down his weeping as he just hoped, prayed, for this to be over._

And then he was awake.

Merlin yelped out in alarm. He felt as if he had fallen twenty feet to get where he was now. His heart was beating out of his chest and his mouth was dry. Hands gripped his shoulders tightly, trying to hold him in place and he buckled violently, trying to throw the unknown capture off of him. He couldn’t quite hear the words he was saying, but he was certainly they were pathetic appeals for his life.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” the voice was soothing, or at least trying to be, dampened by tiredness. “It was just a nightmare Alex, wake up.”

Alex. Yes, that’s his name, for now anyway. His heartbeat calmed a little, and let out a shaky breath. He blinked wildly, eyes wet, and even through the darkness of the night, he could see the concern in Arthur’s eyes.

“I’m okay, o-okay, I’m okay,” Merlin muttered the assurance, trying to shake away from the grip. It relaxed, if only slightly.

“You were crying out in your sleep,” Arthur told him disbelievingly, “What the bloody hell were you dreaming about?”

Blood...screaming...pain...helpless, so fucking helpless...

He shook the thought away violently. “Nothing, it was nothing,” he tried to put on a brave face, “I’m fine, really.”

“Now that’s bullshit, and you know it,” the blond shot back. He finally released his hold on his shoulders and Merlin was surprised at how he longed for the touch back, the one that anchored him in place, and had to physically stop himself from swaying forward. Arthur sighed heavily and continued, seemingly unaware of what had just happened, “But if you don’t want to tell me, I can’t force you.” He eyed him warily, blue eyes seeming to shine brightly with sleepiness and concern. When he spoke again, his voice was low, “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, of course, fine,” Merlin nodded furiously, as if that could help prove his point.

“Because I can stay up with you,” Arthur pushed, “Until you fall asleep. I mean, Morgana...she used to stay up with me whenever I had nightmares and, well, it helped,” he finished lamely.

Merlin wanted to say no. The thought of showing weakness, of allowing the horrors of that night to control his life, made him sick to the stomach – but it was already controlling him, wasn’t it? He couldn’t sleep and when he did, it was only for brief periods of time before he was rocked violently into reality. And the idea of spending another night curled up in under the blankets, unable to escape those days kind of terrified him. So when Merlin gave him a hopeful look and wriggled backwards on the mattress, all Arthur did was hesitate for a moment, let out a low sigh, and drop into the newly freed space. He lay down awkwardly on top of the mattress. There was silence and Merlin wondered whether or not this was a good idea or not.

And then a hand closed around his, tight and warm and comforting. Merlin drew in a harsh breath and his eyes widened.

“Don’t over think it,” Arthur bit out harshly, “Just sleep.”

He watched him for a moment, taking in the handsome curves of Arthur’s face, so close to his own, and then he snuggled back into the pillows, breathing in the leather musk that certainly didn’t belong to him. His eyes fluttered closed.

For the first time in what felt like years, Merlin had a dreamless night.

 

*

 

Arthur was gone when he woke up, running again probably, and Merlin couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed to wake up to the cold side of the bed, as opposed to the warmth weight that he’d fallen asleep to. He didn’t dwell on it though. Honestly, he had bigger things to worry about – like his first meeting with his ‘father’.

He’d walked to the headmaster’s office as he was told to, and hesitated awkwardly in the doorway. The whispered conversation between Uther and the unknown man – Avain, he realised when the man turned towards him – came to a sudden halt and they glanced towards him. He took a small step back.

“Oh, um, I-I can come back later…” he stammered out, with a weak smile.

Uther shook his head. “No, come in.” he gestured the teenager forward. “I shall leave you to alone.”

“Half an hour should be long enough,” Avain called after him, “As it’s our first meeting.”

The door closed with a click, and Merlin tugged his satchel off his shoulders, resting it on the side of the armchair. He eyed the other occupant of the office closely.

There was no denying this man was Mordred’s father, even more so now than in the photograph. Avian was older now, strands of greying hair catching the light from above, and deeper wrinkles around his eyes when he smiled welcomingly at him. Merlin supposed that this could be his father, if only had looks to go by. They shared a similar frame, lankier than Mordred, with the same jet black hair and blue eyes.

“Merlin, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Avain greeted warmly, holding out his hand for Merlin to shake, which he did after a moment’s pause, “Please take a seat.”

He perched uncomfortably on the end of the seat, hands clasped and fidgeting in his lap, whilst Avain leant back into the cushioned chair, legs crossing and arms resting loosely around his waist. He examined Merlin silently, taking in his body language and not really speaking for a moment. It was a little unnerving, but Merlin let it happen. He wasn’t really sure how much Avain would learn about him from that, but he wasn’t exactly a professional psychologist. It was only when he was boarding on the edge of demanding whether Avain would say something or getting up and walking so he would have _something_ to do, that the man finally open his mouth to speak.

“Have you been sleeping well?” he wondered.

Merlin blinked. Not the kind of question he was expecting, but he answered honestly. “Uh, not really…normally I can only cope with a few hours at a time because I’m awake again, but I think I slept alright last night.”

“What happened last night?” Avain implored.

“…my roommate, he, uh, he stayed with me,” Merlin muttered, cheeks burning slightly with embarrassment, but whether it was because he was admitting to spending the night, in bed, with Arthur Pendragon, or because he was admitting to needing someone to be there to actually fight off the dreams, he wasn’t sure.

However, Avain just nodded understandingly. “That’s a common occurrence to those who have seen something as horrific as you have. The nightmares are scarier because you know they’re real, and when you wake up, reality doesn’t right the wrongs your mind has conjured up. And having someone there, you say that helped?”

Merlin nodded slightly.

“It’s possible it’s because of the nature of your dreams – losing people you care about – so having another person there, helps you feel as if you’re not completely alone. Will this be a repeated situation?”

“…n-no, probably not…” he admitted quietly.

“If you could make it such, it would probably help you through your recovery,” Avain told him, “If you are unable to sleep at night, it will be difficult for other aspects of your mind and body to fully heal from what has happened. Your nightmares will likely seep into your daydreams.”

Merlin winced at the thought. “I-I can try…”

Avain nodded, satisfied. “Very good. Now, what about your magic?”

“My magic?”

“Yes, how is it?”

Merlin glanced down at his hands, following the indents of his palm. They seemed to quiver under the attention. “I…I’m not sure. I haven’t…” he trailed off uncertainly. He hadn’t noticed before. His magic…he hadn’t felt it in himself. Normally, it would always be there, like a constant buzz circling his body, but now…he could barely feel it. Maybe that was why Morgana or Cedric hadn’t confronted from about it – because they couldn’t feel it. He looked at Avain panicked.

The man leant forward, strong hand closing around his own to offer comfort, and gave him a reassuring look. “Everyone’s different Merlin and our magic responds to stressful situations in different ways. For some people, they lose control, and for others, it just depletes. But it will return to normal eventually. I am certain of that. Your magic is too strong to just…disappear.”

Merlin nodded his silent understanding, because he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Not that he was sure what he could say. Avain gave his hand one last squeeze before releasing the grip, returning to his previous position. He felt cold and empty all at once.

“So other than the lack of sleep and the temporary loss of magic, how are you?” Avain questioned, “Have you made any friends here? How are your studies going?”

“Um, good, I guess. Yeah, I have friends – um, Lance and Gwen, Gwaine and Percy, Leon, Elyan, Morgana…and Arthur,” he licked his dried lips, “And my studies are okay, I think. I mean, it’s only been a few weeks so I can’t be too sure.”

“Good,” Avain grinned, “As _Alex’s father_ , I worry about these things.”

Merlin didn’t respond.

“Okay, so I have some homework for you,” Avain continued, “I want you to write a diary.”

“A diary?” Merlin arched an eyebrow.

“Or a journal, if you prefer,” his lips twitched, “Basically, I want you to write whatever you want. How your day has been, about your nightmares, about good things that have happened; your thoughts and feelings. Anything. You could keep it to yourself or you could share some of it at our next meeting. Whatever you feel comfortable with. In other clients, I’ve seen that it help to get some of the stuff that just rockets about their heads all the time written down, helps them to think clearly. I think it might help with you. Are you comfortable with that?”

“Y-yes,” he nodded.

“Excellent, our next meeting will be in a few weeks time, and we’ll delve into what happened that night and, as your magic comes back, I might be able to fit in some training for you, considering Alex can’t participate in normal magical lessons.”

“…I’d appreciate it.” Merlin stood up and grabbed his bag. He paused on his way to the door and glanced over his shoulder. “Why did you agree to be my – I mean, Alex’s father?”

“I offered,” Avain answered, “I…I’ve been where you are, a long time ago, and I know how hard it is. I thought you’d benefit from the help of someone with a good understanding.”

“I…thank you…” he finally said, his voice a whisper.

Avain smiled faintly. “Don’t you have a lesson to be getting to?”

 

*

 

The autumn wind was crisp and cold, probably too cold for that time of year, circling around the two friends as they climbed up on the stands. Merlin rubbed his bare hands together and Gwen pulled her coat tighter around her neck. She’d leant her scarf to Merlin, who didn’t have one, and now relished in the cocoon that surrounded his neck. To be fair, it was at Gwen’s assistance that they were out here in the first place so he couldn’t bring himself to feel completely bad about taking her winter wear.

It was one of the last training sessions of the seasons for the Knights, before they had to temporarily retire for the worse of the winter – “it gets too cold up here to play,” Gwen had explained, “So the football team takes two months break before picking up again in late February, then the official league games start in April” – and apparently, that was one of the best times to watch it.

“Besides,” Gwen had continued, a little breathless from walking up hill, “it’s for our friends.”

So here Merlin was, struggling to keep warm outside, about to watch his new friends play a game he actually lacked all interest in. Not that excuse worked on Gwen.

Only two other people were in the stands, girls he hadn’t seen before, but clearly Gwen knew them because she grinned widely and the two hugged her in welcome.

“Alex, this is Mithan and Dana,” Gwen introduced, “Mit, Dana, this is Alex Vhalos; he’s the new kid that everyone’s talking about.”

Mithan smiled widely and warmly at him, dark eyes closing as she did so. Long dark hair hung in waves over her shoulders and she was wrapped up in a fur lined navy cloak. Dana was practically her opposite – light brown hair pulled up into a ponytail and wide grey eyes. She waved at him with a flick of her hand, brushed a tendril of loose hair behind her ear, and turned her attention back to the field.

“Mithan is dating Leon, has been for about two years now,” Gwen explained to him, “And Dana has a crush on my brother since 1st year.”

Dana flushed pink and glared darkly at Gwen. They began bickering quietly amongst themselves, both fervently defending their cause, and Merlin watched the two nervously.

Mithan chimed her laughter and gestured Merlin forward, “Don’t mind them,” she advised, linking her arm through his. A forward move, but the press of her body to his side kept him warm so he couldn’t complain. “They’ve been having the same argument practically everyday since 3rd year, when Gwen found out. It always goes the same way: Dana insists nothings going to happen, Gwen argues different, they give each other the silent treatment for a few hours and it’s usually resolved by one buying the other an apology cupcake.”

“That sounds…healthy…” he commented, blinking.

“You’ll get used to it,” Mithan assured. She turned her attention to pitch, “So which ones yours?”

“Mine?” Merlin squeaked.

“Hmm,” she hummed, “We’ve all got one to root for. Gwen’s is Lance, Mine’s Leon and Dana’s Elyan – not that he really plays. He was practically forced today because they were one player down. Cedric didn’t show up for practise,” she frowned, as if frustrated by the suffering the team would face. She shook the thought from her head and continued, “So which one’s yours?”

“Ah, I don’t…” Merlin looked at a loss of what to say. But then he didn’t have to, because Gwen answered for him.

“Arthur,” she cut in with a smirk, “He’s definitely an Arthur man.”

Merlin blushed a bright red and spluttered out an objection. The three girls laughed their amusement as his reaction, only making his cheeks darken. He fell silent and looked pointedly at the field, as if that would help him to forget what had just happened.

Leon had possession of the ball and he weaved around the opposing team’s striker who tried to take it. He faked a turn and shot it towards Gwaine, who caught it easily and, true to his personality, teased the players that approached him, spinning and purposely letting the ball get close to the opposing team before snatching it back again. He kicked it through their open legs, towards Lance. He travelled along the field, his leg movements quick and precise, and Merlin could hear Gwen cheering happily, clearly uncaring about the eyes on the pitch that glanced their way. Lance grinned, but didn’t look up, a credit to his concentration, and kicked the ball towards an unknown player. He curved around the opposing player, approaching the goal that Percy stood like a formidable force within in, when it was intercepted with ease and kicked onto the next player. Then Elyan had it and his motions were a little uncoordinated, probably because he didn’t actually play the game normally, but it was enough to avoid a take over from the other team and he passed it onto Arthur, who just ran with it.

“Awh, balls, never mind,” Mithan sighed, resting her chin on the palm of her hand.

“Um, I’m sorry?” Merlin looked confused.

“Arthur is the captain of the team for a reason,” Dana explained, “If he’s got the ball, well, the other teams not going to get it back easily.”

Arthur dodged the defence, shooting the ball between his widely parted legs, and circled around the player to reclaim the football. The goalie shifted between one foot and the other, trying to judge whether Arthur would shoot. The blond grinned dangerously, and kicked towards a surprised Elyan, who took the shot out of pure reflex. He landed a goal in the bottom right corner.

“Oh my god,” Gwen gasped, a wide beam breaking out across her face. She clapped happily, and Dana joined in. Mithan laughed good-naturedly, and whistled loudly. Merlin couldn’t help grinning wildly.

On the pitch, Arthur clapped a shell-shocked Elyan on the back and told him something that Merlin couldn’t here with a proud smile on his face. The rest of the guys approached him. Gwaine throwing his arms roughly around Elyan’s shoulders, Lance and Leon squeezed his shoulders and said their congratulations and Percy ruffled his hair affectionately.

Merlin didn’t know it at the time, and even if he did he wouldn’t want to admit it, but it was probably that moment when he realised that he may or not may – okay, definitely may – have feelings for Arthur Pendragon.

And he guessed that was when things started to change.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapters been beta'd so yay, hopefully no more mistakes! Thanks to WithinHerHeart :D

“Are you sure about this?” Cohen questioned nervously.

Barton hummed. “Definitely. This guy has helped me out a few times when I needed it. He’ll know for certain what our rune is.”

“Yeah, but, can we trust him?” he pushed, not exactly comfortable around the harsh part of the city. Police officers weren’t exactly received with friendly faces around here.

“Well, define trust,” Barton answered, with a slight tilt of his head. Before his partner could reply, he had already stepped forward, pushing the shop door open with a forceful press.

The wooden door scraped loudly across the flooring, paint peeling, and a bell – which honestly seemed a little redundant to Cohen – rung above them. The shop was a cluttered mess. Old, leather bound books that were in desperate need of dusting to be honest were played upon shelves and on top of desks in no particular order. Vials of labelled liquids, some brightly coloured, which stood out in the wooden finishing of the shop floor, were scattered wherever space was found. There was amulets and seals in a glass case, and daggers and swords, things he was pretty sure a permit was needed to sell (and even more sure that the owners of the shop had none), mounted upon walls. The smell of incense was thick in the air.

The woman at the counter couldn’t have been older than twenty. Long curly blond hair hung over her shoulders and her blue eyes, thickly framed with eyeliner, eyed them coldly. Her expression was bored and disinterested, but she stood up straighter as they approached, the many necklaces around her neck jiggling as she did so.

“Chief Inspector Cohen and Detective Barton here to see Helios,” Barton took control, flashing his badge quickly.

The blond stared at him for a moment before she inclined her head over her shoulder, “Sweetie, cops are here to see you.”

There was some fumbling in the backroom and, after a moment, a huge man stepped out from behind a musky curtain. Tribal tattoos wrapped around muscled arms, disappearing beneath his dark shirt, and reappearing again at his collar as the marks curled upwards along his jaw and onto his cheek. He smiled mockingly at them and folded his arms almost threateningly across his wide chest. He was hardly the kind of person that Cohen would trust with such delicate information. In fact, he was pretty certain that if the murderer came in here and asked about them, this Helios would reveal everything faster than you could click your fingers – for the right price, of course.

“Detective,” Helios greeted, “It’s nice to see you again. Here to buy?”

“Here for your mind,” Barton corrected. “We have a case, murders, and we found something hidden in the scene. We need to know what it is.”

“Something magical then?”

“Almost certainly,” Cohen responded, as he reached into his pocket for the evidence bag. He set it on the countertop, sliding it slightly across the surface, and tried not to feel uncomfortable by the curious way the woman rose up onto her tip toes to see the object when her partner held it up for a better look.

Helios whistled lowly. “And where exactly did you get your hands on this?” he muttered, sounding a little impressed.

“We think it’s magical; some kind of rune,” Cohen elaborated.

“We’ll it’s definitely magical,” Helios glanced between the two of them, “Have you gentleman heard of Dragon Lords?”

“Um, a warlock that lords over dragons?” Barton attempted.

The man’s lips twitched in response. “Well, you’re not wrong,” he conceded, “But they’re so much more than that. There’s this legend that speaks of a bloodline stretching from the beginnings of the Old Religion; of warlocks and witches with indescribable power, and because of their companionship with dragons, they became known as Dragon Lords. They’re supposed to be magic, just pure magic. And this,” he raised the rune, “this was supposed to be their symbol. If you could find a warlock who had this in their possession, you’d found the mythical Dragon Lords. You say you found this at a crime scene?”

“Yes, a pretty bloody one actually,” Cohen admitted.

“Well, I’m guessing these Dragon Lords had something to do with it,” Helios concluded, handing over the evidence bag. Cohen placed it back in his pocket.

The woman looked thoughtful for a moment. “Does this have anything to do with that Emrys kid? Uh, Merlin, right?”

He froze in place, fear making his heart pick up the beat for a moment. She knew about Merlin. How did she know about him? He knew that there had been newspaper articles and news bulletins about the murders – of course there would be – but no names had been released. All the neighbours had been advised to keep the deceased families name a secret, just for the protection of the young boy who would have to be safeguarded. And she knew his _name_.

Clearly his panic showed on his face because she laughed good-naturedly. “Don’t look so much like a deer in headlights. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“How’d you find out?” Barton demanded and his eyes narrowed. Cohen was grateful. He was almost certain he was too concerned to speak at this time, because he couldn’t stand the idea of Merlin getting hurt; of having another murder on their hands.

“Uther Pendragon is my step-father,” she dropped the unexpected bomb, “I work at CamelotAcademy. Are you surprised I know?”

“Did he tell you?” Barton pushed.

“No, I’m just…resourceful,” she corrected.

“…What’s your name?” he asked.

“Morgause,” she answered simply, a small smile on her petite face.

“Well, Miss Pen-“

“Can I give you some advice, officer?” Morgause interrupted quickly, her voice harsh despite her light expression. “If this has anything to do with Dragon Lords, this won’t be stupid kids trying their luck. This is the real deal. I’d watch my back. And the kid’s.”

Cohen expression was hard. “Don’t worry ma’am, I intend to do just that.”

 

*

 

“Do you recognise this Merlin?” Cohen questioned, holding out the evidence bag towards the teenager.

Merlin glanced at the chief inspector for a moment, a little wary, before accepting the offered object with shaky hands. It fit easily between his hands, just like always and he swallowed heavily as memories assaulted him. “Yeah…” he cleared his throat, “Uh, yes, I recognise it.”

“Can you tell me what it is?” he pressed.

The teenager gave a half shrug. “It was something from my father’s family. He said it was a symbol that was passed down to each generation…”

“ _From my grandmother to my mother, to my mother to me and from me, I pass it onto you_ ,” his father had explained. The coin caught the sunlight that streamed from the window and made his shine and glow, and Merlin, aged four, felt breathless at the sight of it.

“ _What is it?_ ” he had asked eagerly.

“ _It’s our family’s symbol Merlin, one of our bloodline and our power_ ,” Balinor had explained, “ _You’re too young to understand it yet, but one day I will teach you everything you need to know to become the best warlock you can be._ ”

“ _Will I be powerful like you?_ ” Merlin wondered.

His father had bellowed out a laugh. “ _Yes, exactly like me. Perhaps even more powerful._ ”

Merlin just looked at him in awe and disbelief. Be more powerful than his father? It just seemed impossible. He couldn’t even tie his shoelaces properly. He would try and just when he thought he’d got it right, his mother would appear and smile fondly and correct the mistakes. He was getting better though, she had said so.

“ _Are you still showing him that old stuff? You’ve been up here all morning_ ,” Hunith’s voice, a little exasperated, came from the doorway.

“ _It’s important stuff Hunith, he’s going to need to know it at some point_ ,” Balinor defended.

“ _I’m sure he will, but not today_ ,” she reasoned.

“ _Mama, Daddy says that he’ll teach me to be big and powerful like him_ ,” Merlin chortled happily, rushing to his mother’s side and clutching at her skirt.

Hunith laughed warmly and rubbed his cheek affectionately. “ _I’m sure you will be Bumblebee, but before then, you’ve got dinner to eat to make you tall and strong._ ”

“Merlin?”

He shook out of his thoughts and blinked wildly at Cohen in front of him. The man looked little worried, eyebrows drawn together. Merlin forced a small smile that he hoped was reassuring.

“…it was important to my father, I know that,” he continued, as if nothing had happened, “I’m not sure what else you want me to tell you.”

“My partner and I,” Cohen started, “We had it looked at and apparently this rune has a lot of history behind it.”

“That’s what my father always said too,” Merlin nodded.

“Did he tell you anything about it? Anything that might of stuck out?”

“He said he would, but he died before he got the chance,” his throat felt tight at the memory and he gulped loudly. “What...why are you asking me about it?”

“Someone had hidden it in your kitchen. Underneath the floorboards,” Cohen added, “We think…we think that it may have something to do with why your parents and uncle were killed.”

Merlin sat up straight, his shoulders hunched forward. “What? Why?” he demanded, “Why would someone kill for _this_?”

_It just doesn’t seem worth it…_

“According to the expert we saw, this is a symbol of the Dragon Lords,” Cohen begun.

“Dragon Lords?”

“Supposedly some amazingly powerful magically bloodline,” he explained. “Now, Barton and I…we think that maybe your family was-“

“Was what? These Dragon Lords?” Merlin interjected, a noticeable amount of hysteria making its way into his voice.

“The symbol was found in your home, and you already admitted to us that the attackers seemed to be questioning your family, maybe-“Cohen tried to soothe.

“How could they have known anything? This is…it’s just a stupid fairy tale!” Merlin yelled.

“All stories stem from a truth Merlin, you know that,” he was told, “And besides, there doesn’t have to be a truth for someone to believe it is. And they found out your family had some connection to the kind of magic at these Dragon Lords are rumoured to possess. Well, they’d definitely want to try and find a way to harness it.”

Merlin sniffed loudly. Angry tears began to burn a trail down his cheeks and he wiped furiously at them with the sleeve of his shirt. “So my family were butchered because some bloody bastard wants some mythological magic for himself?”

He couldn’t believe it. The very idea…dying for something so trivial. They went through so much pain. Gaius said that they didn’t know anything; he could hear the words ringing loudly in his mind as if they were happening just beside him. As if he was right there once more. But they hadn’t believed him. Hadn’t believed anything that came out of their mouths. Probably wouldn’t have anyway, unless someone had given up the location of these Dragon Lords. And if they had known…if they had known the truth and kept it to themselves…

He could almost laugh at how stupid that sounded.

“This is only a theory Merlin,” Cohen tried to pacify, his voice gentle, “We don’t know the truth yet, but we can’t ignore an angle to investigate.” He stood up slightly, “You can keep that, if you want…”

He thought about it. It was important to his father, and to have something of his would be amazing. But he remembered that night and he could see the dried blood fused into the engravings and he felt bile rise up from within his stomach. “No, no, take it…just have it, please…” he pushed it almost frantically towards the officer.

Cohen looked almost pitying at him. “If you remember anything, even if it’s just a word or two from when you were a child, something that focuses around this Dragon Lord idea, just let me know, okay?”

Merlin just nodded wordlessly. He didn’t trust himself not to vomit as soon as his mouth opened.

When he left the office, he moved determinedly down the corridors. He kept his head bowed, eyes averted to the floor, and he had a plan to get to his dormitory as fast as possible. Arthur would still be in lessons so he had at least an hour or so to hide and mourn this new knowledge in the secrecy of his own room.

But it seemed Cedric had different ideas.

He was hanging out around the staircase with Gilli and Tauren, probably bunking their lessons, and laughing among themselves as they magically altered busts and statues that lined the hallway. Merlin hesitated when he saw them and had to bite down his lip to suppress the urge to comment on the abuse of their powers, the voice sounding way too much like his father. He dropped his gaze once more and headed towards the stairs, the only way to the dorms. He thought, maybe, if he just kept low and ignored them, kept walking, that he’d be able to get by without any hassle.

He should have known that was a stupid expectation when Cedric’s gaze landed on him, eyes lighting up and a malicious smirk crossed his face. He stood in front of him and, with Merlin’s stooped stance, Cedric towered over him. Merlin tried to side step but Cedric wouldn’t let him.

“Alright Vhalos, where’d you think you’re going in such a hurry?” he crooned.

“Well, I’m trying to get to my dormitory,” Merlin stated, as calmly as he could at that moment. His grip tightened around the strap of his satchel. “Can you move out of my way please?”

Cedric hovered. “I suppose I could…if I wanted to.” He answered airily.

“And let me guess, you don’t want to?” Merlin guessed.

“Ah, now your catching on Ears,” Cedric teased.

The tips of his ears burnt. “Don’t call me that…” he muttered.

“What? You don’t want me to call you what?”

“…Ears,”

“But that’s your name isn’t it Vhalos? Ears? I mean, what else could it be?”

Merlin gritted his teeth. “Maybe if you learnt to open your ears, you would have heard that my name’s Alex.”

“Alex, huh?” Cedric arched an eyebrow, and feigned thoughtfulness, “Nah, I think I like Ears better. Don’t you think so?”

“Definitely easier to remember,” Tauren added.

“Awh, look, Ears’ ears are going red,” Gilli teased. He flicked the shell of Merlin’s ear. The boy ducked and glared darkly at the other boy. He faked fright before dissolving into laughter.

“Look, just let me go passed. I don’t have the energy to deal with your bullshit right now,” Merlin commented angrily, pushing harshly through the wall of bodies.

Cedric scowled. “What do you mean bullshit?” he demanded.

Merlin didn’t answer, just kept on powering forward. Four more steps and he’s away from them. But then a hand closed tightly around his wrist, tugging him roughly backwards and he stumbled down a few steps.

“Hey, let go!” he ordered, wriggling his wrist in an attempt to find a way to free it.

Tauren tightened his grip around the limb and for a second, Merlin was certain he could hear the bone rubbing together. He winced, and began to struggle even more, but still the hold wouldn’t budge.

“You can’t go,” Cedric told him, with a hint of an amused smile on his face, “We’re not done with you yet.”

“But I’m done with you. Funny how life works out, isn’t it?” he responded snidely, his hand beginning to go white from lack of blood circulation. Of course, Cedric would surround himself with muscled idiots. It was the cliché, after all. He let out a huff of frustration; his anger at Cedric and his goons, and those bastards who slaughtered his family, bubbled up inside of him, reaching a level he didn’t even know was possible.

“I said let. _Go!_ ” he shouted angrily.

And then it happened. It spread across him, feeling the emptiness that had been previously left, drifting into all the wounds and healing them, warming his body. He knew was it was instantly and struggled to contain it. Because Alex Vhalos had no magic, his secret would be out, and he was too angry to fully understand what he was doing. But it was too late. It was too sudden and too powerful for him to control.

Merlin’s eyes flashed gold, confusion followed by realisation crossing the faces of his bullies, before they were enveloped in a cloud of white light. The hold on his wrist was realised and he raised his hand to shield from the brightness of it all. Even with his eyes closed, the light seeped in between the cracks to singe his eyes before it pulled away, like the sea’s tide, slowly until there was nothing. It was then he tentatively blinked one eye open to access the damage caused, heart pounding with alarm in his chest.

Cedric was held tightly against the opposite wall, thrown into a splayed out position a few metres off the ground and was seemingly stuck there. Gilli, with a shade of purple starting to overwhelm his normally pale skin, had a tight grip on his trouser leg and seemed to trying to use his body weight to pull his friend back to the floor. A futile attempt really, and someone with magic should know that, even someone with as little as Gilli had. And Tauren, he was dropped at the bottom of the stairs; his long dark hair now sheered off leaving behind only the bald curve of his head. He blinked blankly, as if he couldn’t really remember what was happening.

Merlin stared at the mess in front of him for a moment, not entirely sure what he was supposed to do. It was as if he were frozen in place, just assessing the damage while his brain shouted frantic reminders of what could happen now that the well planned out tale was unravelling around him.

And then Cedric’s eyes narrowed furiously on him, fire burning in their depths that promised a future of pain, and Merlin did the only thing he could do: he ran.

 

*

 

Arthur found him forty-five minutes later curled up on his bed. He made a racket as he usually did when he came in from lessons or football practise, dropping bags heavily to the floor and automatically beginning to complain, mostly like to the room, although Merlin guessed that was more an outcome of the habit of living alone than anything else, about his day. He’d been talking for ten minutes before he realised something was wrong. He paused half way through his sentence, the words left hanging, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Alex…are you okay?” he questioned worriedly as he approached the bed, sitting hesitantly upon the edge.

Merlin sniffed loudly and ran a hand over his face; wiping away frustrated tears he hadn’t realised were there. “Fine, I’m fine. It’s just…it’s been a rough day…” he admitted with a sigh.

“What happened?” Arthur implored.

“I-I…”

“Did someone hurt you?” he tried, “Percy told me about Cedric, said that was probably why Gwaine acted out during practice. Was it him?”

_He has something to do with it but that’s not all. I just found out that my family was murdered over something as ridiculous as a rumour about some magical and all powerful bloodline that no one really knows exists. And then I was confronted by those pricks on the stairs and I got so angry that I lost control and may have revealed my magic to the worse people imaginable. So yeah, I think Cedric has something to do with it…_

He nodded silently, refusing to turn and face his roommate. He didn’t want Arthur to see him like this, not when he felt so…pathetic.

Arthur frowned deeply. “I can talk to him if you like,” he offered, “The guy’s an arrogant arsehole – don’t comment – but I’m sure I can talk him into leaving you alone. And if not, I’m sure Percy would take it as an honour to do it himself.”

“N-no, really, it’s fine, I can…handle the likes of Cedric,” Merlin quickly assured, “It’s just…everything that happened today…it’s a bit personal, so…”

“Oh, I understand!” Arthur said hurriedly, a little pink around the cheeks, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to – I was just saying…”

Out of reflex, Merlin grasped his flailing hand. A jolt of magic, like electricity, shot through him at the touch and he let out a silent gasp. Arthur took in a halted breath, a clue that Merlin hadn’t imagined the feeling, and stared at him with wide eyes from behind his blond fringe.

The room was tense, questions teetering on the edge of their tongues, but neither were willing to ask about it. Maybe it was because they didn’t want to disturb the touch. At least, that’s what it was like for Arthur. He hadn’t expected to actually like Alex when they had first met. In fact, he’d had full intention of hating him but it was impossible. And not just because he knew Morgana would kick his arse if she knew he was acting like a horrible prat, but because Alex was a genuinely good person; one of those people that it’s completely irrational to hate, because they didn’t have a bad bone in their body. He was like a wounded puppy, Arthur had concluded within days of knowing his new roommate. A wounded puppy that didn’t want its owner to know it had been hurt. Arthur could see he was in pain, could see he wasn’t sleeping properly at night – and not just because he could hear the erratic breathing and muffled off cries as he tried to sleep – rather it showed clearly over his face everyday, getting worse as his tiredness grew. Maybe that was why he had reached out before, because he didn’t want him to suffer – that’s what he’d told himself anyway. At the time, he hadn’t been prepared to get into that kind of conversation with himself; the kind of conversation where he admits that he has feelings for his very much male roommate, especially not that early in the morning.

But now, with that beautifully carved face as close to his own, Arthur couldn’t think of anything else. Pink was creeping onto Alex’s pale skin and Arthur could see his pupils’ dilating as he watched closely. He licked his chapped lips, bottom lip a little swollen from where he had been biting on it before, and Arthur followed the trail, with a look in his eyes that made it seem as if he had found the stairway to heaven.

Arthur wanted to taste, wanted to know what it felt like to have that cupid’s bow pressed firmly against his own. He imagined the skin would be soft, surprisingly so. He imagined that Alex would melt into the touch, hands clutching tightly at his shoulders as he scrambled onto his lap, overwhelmed with the need to just get closer. Alex would moan into the kiss when Arthur’s tongue traced the seam and dipped in for the first sampling. The cavern would be hot and wet and he’d be met with no resistance, but an insistent companion that would enthusiastically battle for dominance before happily conceding its defeat.

Arthur could practically see Alex stretched out in front of him, languidly like a cat, and giving him naughty bedroom eyes that he knew would fray at Arthur’s already shredded control. He’d laugh when Arthur pounced at him and groan with pleasure when he bit down harshly at the junction between his shoulder and his neck. Marking him, claiming him.

Oh how he wanted his fantasies to come true.

He hadn’t realised how close they had drawn until he felt hot breath caress the bottom of his face. Arthur blinked, surprise crossing his face for a split second which quickly evaporated when he realised that if he just lowered his head a little more, barely an inch, he could find out for real the pleasures those lips could bring.

He hesitated for a moment, searching Alex’s eyes for…something. Confirmation maybe, a sign that he wanted this as well. And it was there, the darken stare of desire that set Arthur’s blood on fire. Yes, he wanted this and he’d make it good for Alex, he promised.

Arthur inclined his head downwards and let out a heavy puff of air when their lips brushed together fleetingly. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. Blood pumping and hands shaking in anticipation, he reached up with his free hand to lock into Alex’s jet-black hair, a good purchase so he could drag him closer. Alex moved with the pressure willingly, eyes fluttered shut and he waited for the next step.

A loud bang at the door, like someone furiously thumping it with their fist, jerked them away from each other. Their touch broke and a large amount of distance was put between them. Merlin tried not to feel disappointed as Arthur kept his gaze fixed firmly on the opposite wall, scratching the back of his head uneasily.

“Alex, Arthur!” Leon’s laughing voice came through the door, “You need to see this!”

“Yeah, Tauren’s lost his hair!” Elyan added.

“And that’s not even the best part!”

“Gilli’s green-“

“-And Cedric’s pinned to the wall, get this, without his clothes on!”

Arthur cleared his throat. “I…we’ll be out in a minute!” he called, trying not to sound as uncomfortable as he looked.

Against his better judgement, Arthur looked back at his roommate, who was beginning to curl back into himself. Alex looked a little hurt and sad, a little longing even – but maybe he was just reading too much into it. That didn’t stop guilt from twisting his stomach into knots.

Alex was vulnerable, weak to his emotions at the moment, and Arthur had tried to take advantage of that. He swallowed down the bubble of apologies that travelled up his oesophagus, because something told him that Alex wouldn’t appreciate it.

God, all he wanted to do was go over there and take the kiss he should have had before. He needed it so much he could feel his skin begin to itch from his delay. And Alex was still looking at him like he’d be a more than willing victim to his urges. His fingers twitched, wanting to reach out to touch that creamy skin again, to feel the thick strands of hair between them, and he had to clench them into a fist as a physical restraint.

It took everything he had to just walk out of there.

Merlin flinched when the door shut behind Arthur’s departing body. His legs bent to his chest and he held onto them desperately, the strength beneath his hold trying to substitute the grasp he wanted, but seemed he wasn’t going to get. Already, loneliness and bitterness replaced the connection that had once been. He smiled sadly and closed his eyes so he could remember how Arthur had looked when he had looked at him, overcome with his want.

Because, right now, memories were all he had.


	6. Chapter 6

For the next few weeks, the world revolved as normal. Merlin would wake up when Arthur got up to begin his run, if he hadn’t been woken by the never ending nightmares, and lie in bed until his phone alarm told him he no choice but to get up. He would then dress and meet someone – usually Gwaine, sometimes Lance or Gwen and, more recently, Dana – and walk down to breakfast with them. Then there were lessons – Biology and his Advanced English classes being his favourites – and lunch; more lessons and then a free period that he filled with homework if he wasn’t ambushed by his friends as he left his class. Dinner and then bed. The process repeated, day after day, week after week, and Merlin felt almost…normal again.

Except he wasn’t. Because every time someone called him Alex or Vhalos, he would be reminded forcibly about why he was there; about what had happened and the struggle to find out the truth of what had happened. Cohen kept him updated as much as he could with phone calls to the crappy Nokia he had been given or during the scheduled meetings every fortnight, but no new evidence had arisen since the discovery of the symbol of the Dragon Lords. Of course, Merlin had done his own research, as much as he could. But CamelotAcademy didn’t have that many books on magical legends and it had taken Mr Wilson finding him in the library at gone midnight, still searching, to find out that there were very few copies of mythology books since the fire there ten years ago.

“But I think I may have something that could help you out,” he had mused, “I shall let you know tomorrow in the lesson, which I’m expecting you to be on time for.” He had given him a pointed look that made Merlin smiled embarrassedly, before leaving to retire for the night.

The book had been helpful but unfortunately, there wasn’t much to say about them. Apparently, no one really knew anything about Dragon Lords or their supposed magic bloodline. There were rumours and claims that the heir of this family was powerful, more powerful than any member of the family that had come before and more than anyone studying magic has ever encountered. There was one claim that the Dragon Lords were supposed to be the justice and the protection of the Old Religion; that they would help someone that was wronged. Nothing concrete and nothing worth bothering the Chief Inspector about.

So he’d pushed the thought to the side, and focused on other things. Not that it was difficult. His new friends seemed to be doing everything in their power to keep him distracted and entertained. Elyan offered to teach him martial arts when he found out about the problems with Cedric, who had seemed even more determined to make his life a misery since the incident, but had surprisingly kept that information to himself – Merlin suspected that Percy had something to do with that – and Merlin liked to think he was getting better. Leon had asked Merlin to tutor him in Magical History, something he had a penchant for, and they’d taken time out at least three times a week to help improve his grade. Mordred would appear just to ask him how his day had been, despite the vicious arguments he would get into with Morgana, and genuinely acted the way an older brother would act towards their siblings – annoying and a little overprotective. He wasn’t sure whether it was an act or Mordred actually enjoying his company. Merlin liked to think it was the latter.

He’d met Elena, an old friend of Arthur’s, at the beginning of November. According to what Mithan had told him, Elena was a bit of a klutz and she had broken her leg on the first day of school slipping down a flight of stairs. She’d been forced to take the first half of that term off for recuperation and had insisted she return now. She was this bubbly blond that laughed at her own mistakes and, from what he had gathered, had a history with Gwaine that didn’t affect their close friendship, although Percy always looked a little uncomfortable. Admittedly, she had been one of the biggest helps. She never gave him time to think about anything depressing, always dragging him to join in and, at Lance’s birthday party, she’d succeeded in comforting him all night when he’d caught sight of Arthur across the room with Vivian Sabre, the 5th year’s answer to Regina George (he totally blamed Dana for that reference).

Arthur…

After the almost-most-kind-of kiss, Arthur had been acting differently. He was distant, even when he was right there, and skittish. There was one occasion that had made him hurt for hours when they’d been laughing and joking as a group and Merlin had nudged his shoulder playfully. He jerked away so quickly, so violently, that he nearly fell of the table. Merlin hadn’t tried something like that since. And then it was as if he was planning to kiss his way through the 5th and 6th years’ female population. Merlin would turn a corner and Arthur would be there, pressing the next willing girl into a shadowed cove, kiss locked tightly and hands slipping beneath each other’s clothes.

It had taken a whole weekend of crappy movies, Gwen, Mithan, Dana, Gwaine and Elena’s special skill of breaking into the school kitchens for him to feel even remotely better. Although, he had to admit, the protective stances of those few people had made him feel safe and loved, in a way he hadn’t felt in a while.

But that wasn’t even the worst part. Arthur had watched him. Merlin would feel the eyes burning into him from wherever he sat. At first, he would glance around, eyes landing on Arthur, only to look away hurt when he would suddenly reach out to the girl that was beside him, dragging them closer. After a while, he learned to live with it. He’d mentioned it to Gwen once and she’d narrowed her eyes in frustration.

“That’s because the prat has feelings for you and refuses to accept them,” she explained, “Lance tried to speak to him about it – we’re all worried for you both – but Arthur seems to think it’s the right the thing to do and he’d difficult to convince him out of something when he’s made his mind up.”

What Merlin didn’t realise was going unsaid was Gwen’s declaration that she wasn’t going to give up though, that she was working out a plan as they spoke.

And it would all come together on his birthday.

Well, it was Alex’s birthday. Mordred had mentioned it on one of his visits and the others had turned to him in disbelief. He wasn’t even aware of it himself so he’d just flushed under the ludicrous stares and glared darkly at Mordred’s retreating back. He’d winked playfully over his shoulder in response.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Mithan demanded.

“Yeah, it’s your birthday. We want to celebrate with you!” Elena pressed.

“I don’t…” he trailed off with a shrug, “You never asked,” he finally answered weakly.

“That’s a bullshit excuse,” Dana replied.

“We should do something,” Leon offered, “A party?”

“Guys, really, you don’t have to-“Merlin’s attempts to wave off the idea were interrupted.

“You’re having a party Alex,” Morgana told him firmly, her voice leaving no room for objections, “This Saturday. It’ll be small, just the twelve of us. It’ll be fun,” she assured.

“And Gwen can plan it,” Lance volunteered his girlfriend, who beamed at the prospect.

“If he doesn’t want a party, we can’t force him,” Arthur was the voice of reason.

Merlin looked at the group a little pathetically, everyone’s gaze hopeful except for Arthur who just stared at him with the same blank yet intense look he’d been giving him for weeks now. After a few seconds, he sighed. “Fine, plan a party,” he conceded, and couldn’t help smiling a little when the table cheered.

To Gwen’s credit, she did keep it small. She had requested the use of the rec room from the evening and Uther, apparently, agreed easily. She set up the massive television that had been placed in their at the beginning of term to play video games – Dana had gotten her elder brother to drop their Wii off at the school earlier that week along with an array of games that Merlin didn’t even know existed – and decorated the room with a handmade banner that read in clear letters ‘Happy Birthday Alex’.

He had enjoyed it, laughing and smiling and eating the cake that the kitchen’s had prepared, and it was almost enough to ignore the fact that Arthur had sat silently at the back of the group for a few minutes before retreating off somewhere and hadn’t been seen since. Obviously, he hadn’t been doing a good job of hiding it, because he caught the look that Morgana shot him, a cross between pity and irritation. He quickly ducked his gaze and forced himself not to search anymore, something he found much harder to do than he should have.

He’d downed his drink when Gwen ambushed him, pushing him insistently towards the kitchen, claiming that they needed more drinks and that since he wasn’t doing anything he should go do it.

“And don’t argue with the woman who planned this for you,” she told him pointedly, when he opened his mouth to object.

In the kitchen, he found Arthur.

The blond looked up surprised by his presence. He was leaning against the counter, one hand deep in his pocket whilst the other nursed a plastic cup of something stronger than the soft drinks in the fridge. Merlin pulled to a halt and bit his bottom lip, wondering whether he should just back out of the room slowly. Someone else could come in and get the drinks. Hell, he’d happily go thirsty for the rest of the night so he didn’t have to deal with this awkward situation.

Arthur smiled crookedly at him, the ends of his lips wavering slightly, and he took a deep gulp from the cup. There was a moment of silence and it appeared as if he was debating whether or not to say something before he finally opened his mouth.

“So, are you enjoying yourself?”

“Um, y-yes,” Merlin stuttered, “It’s…its very good. Gwen did an amazing job.”

Arthur hummed in agreement. “And on such short notice too.”

“Exactly,” he agreed uneasily. He took another step into the room, “So, uh, why aren’t you out there?”

“…I guess I’m not really in the festive mood, no offense,” the blond quickly added, eyes widening slightly as if he were afraid he’d accidently hurt him, “I mean, it’s not…I’ve just been thinking about stuff…a lot of stuff…”

“Is that why you’ve been acting so strangely?” Merlin found himself blurting out the question before he could stop himself. He snapped his jaw shut, a precaution in case his big brain decided there was more resentment to be let loose, and stared at Arthur hopeful for a response.

Arthur opened and closed his mouth, wanting to say something but unable to get the words out. Merlin could feel his hope deflating and his shoulders slumped in defeat. Of course, no answer. Why should he have expected anything else? He made to leave, went to say something about the bottles of drink that Gwen had asked for when Arthur groaned loudly.

“It’s not as if I want to avoid you!” he exclaimed, aggravation obvious in his voice as he ran a hand roughly through his hair, “I mean, god, that’s the last thing I want to do, you have no idea…”

“Then why are you?” Merlin demanded, moving determinately so he was standing in front of Arthur, forcing him to meet his gaze, “Did…Did I do something wrong? Did _that_ make you uncomfortable, because I’d rather forget it ever happened than have to go through you ignoring me all the time, okay?”

Arthur laughed bitterly. “Trust me, what that made me was as far away from uncomfortable as you can get.”

“…so why…” he trailed off, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I…I pushed myself upon you,” Arthur finally said, eyes squeezed shut, “I didn’t mean to – you were upset and of course you’d need someone to cheer you up – but you just looked so vulnerable and so bloody gorgeous that I just wanted to…to grab a hold of you and never let you go. I want to know what you tasted like, know what your skin felt like under my own, know how to make you scream. I-I wanted it…and I shouldn’t. You weren’t in the right frame of mind to be making those kinds of decisions and once I’d started, I knew I wouldn’t have been able to stop and…” his voice caught and he looked at a loss of how to continue.

So Merlin spoke for him. He took another half a step forward and reached out watchfully for Arthur’s hand. It didn’t flinch away from his touch, just hung there limply, but it was better than nothing, Merlin supposed. He traced the rough grooves of his hand with the ends of his fingers, loving the feeling of the bronzed skin against his own. He heard Arthur’s breath hitch a little and he smiled.

“You didn’t…take advantage of me, you self-righteous twat,” Merlin told him fondly, “And even if you did take advantage of me, I would be a willing victim because I wanted nothing more than let you find out all those things about me. I-I still do…”

“But I…”

Merlin shushed him. “No, you didn’t, you just think you did,” he tried to assure, but he could already feel Arthur beginning to pull away again, so he held onto his hand tighter. “That’s what you told Lance right? That you were being a prat because you thought you’d done something that was less than chivalrous and, don’t deny it, that kind of stuff is important to you. And I think you should know that you avoiding me hurt me a whole lot more than any of those guilty feelings you’re unnecessarily carrying around with you.”

Arthur winced. “I know, and I’m sorry,” he started, “If there’s any way I can make this right, I’ll-“

“There is a way,” Merlin announced. He licked his bottom lip nervously, taking in a trembling breath and, after a moment to wonder what the hell he was doing, he met Arthur’s wide eyed gaze head on. “Kiss me,” he told him.

“W-what?”

“I think you’re familiar with the concept. The last few weeks have been clear evidence to that fact,” Merlin jabbed with a hint of exasperation in his voice, “Now, kiss me.”

“Oh, um, a-are you…”

“Oh for god’s sake…” the dark haired warlock muttered to himself before he grabbed either side of Arthur’s face and dragged him forcibly down until their lips met.

The jolt of magic was instantaneous, and the world seemed to straighten out, as if…everything was alright again. Merlin let out a hot breath of relief against the soft lips. _Finally…_

Arthur didn’t respond straight away. If anything, he seemed frozen in place. Dread began to settle in Merlin’s stomach, destroying the moment, and he wondered whether he had made the complete wrong decision. He pulled back slowly, or at least tried to when strong arms surge forward and wrapped tightly around his waist, dragging his body in close so it was pushed flush against the wondrous washboard abs that years of playing football had created. The press back was insistent; the flick of his tongue ravaging, shoving its way desperately into Merlin’s mouth. He breathed heavily through his nose, unwilling to separate them for even a moment, and Merlin…he just melted into the hold.

“Like a lovesick girl,” Arthur had teased later. Of course, he denied it completely whenever it was brought up, but at the time, he couldn’t have cared less. All that matter was Arthur was there, right there instead of at the unsettling distance he previously kept and was kissing him – _him_ – rather than some other girl, someone else. Pleasure replaced the bad feelings he once had and he held on tighter, arms wrapping around Arthur’s neck so he could know what it felt like when those thick strands of hair ran through his fingers.

It wasn’t really official. Arthur didn’t exactly declare it publically, but he didn’t really need to. He spent the rest of the evening at Merlin’s side, always touching, whether it a brief brush of hands or the tapping of his foot or the rough throw of an arm over his shoulder, and when they came down for breakfast the next morning, he’d held his hand on top of the table, in full view of the expectant gazes their friends had held.

Morgana had rolled her eyes and looked up to the heavens in an overdramatic fashion. “Oh thank god!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, we were starting to think we’d have to suffer through the sexual tension forever,” Gwaine commented with a smirk.

“If that plan didn’t work, I don’t know what I’d do,” Gwen had complained, and Merlin suppressed the urge to say that he knew that she had something to do with this.

Lance clapped Arthur on the back. “Welcome to the club man.” He congratulated.

“No more moping,” Mithan had given him a pointed look before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Yeah, I think the cooks were starting to suspect something,” Dana added with a grin.

“Finally,” Elyan had joked.

“If Gwen’s plan didn’t work, I was going to lock you both in an airing cupboard,” Leon informed them both seriously.

“Oh Leon, you’re subtlety holds no bounds,” Arthur replied dryly.

“Congratulations,” Percy said quietly, tapping Merlin’s foot under the table gently.

He beamed.

For that brief moment in time, it was almost as if everything was going to be okay. He still had nightmares, but Arthur was there every night, holding him against his chest so the darkness couldn’t get any closer and muttering how everything was going to be okay against his neck when he couldn’t stop the sobs. He asked Merlin a couple of times about the nightmares but after Merlin had swallowed and admitted he really didn’t want to talk about it, Arthur had stopped asking.

He felt bad about it though. He wished he could tell Arthur everything – about who he was; what had happened; wanted to tell him stories from his childhood like Arthur told him and how he missed them all so much – but he knew he couldn’t. And every time he woke up screaming or crying and Arthur would give him this broken look as if he hated himself for not being able to do anything to stop the dreams from coming, he felt a little bit worse.

It was probably that which encouraged him to actually take Avain’s journal advice. The man hadn’t brought it up again in the few sessions that they’d had. He seemed to focus on trying to get him to remember the good times he had shared with his family, hoping they would soon overshadow all the blood and pain, and to control his emotional magic outbursts after the incident. But now, it seemed like the greatest idea ever.

So he took up writing. It started out just about the nightmares. About the red stains and the begging and the gutted noise of his mother’s life draining from her body. About the manic laugh of the murder and the voice of a man, not the murder, with a face he could never remember any details from. And then he made notes of the things that seemed to chase the nightmares away, circling his particular favourites. And then it was just about life. About Arthur’s over energetic attitude in the mornings and the way he liked to cling to something – the duvet, the pillow, Merlin - in his sleep. About his training with Elyan and how Dana had asked to join the sessions, about how their relationship seemed to be getting closer. About Morgana and Mordred’s fights – which happened a ridiculous amount – and about how Leon had accidently walked in on them kissing in an empty English classroom. About how Leon had given Mithan a promise ring on their anniversary. About Gwaine’s obsession for honey covered apples and Percy’s penchant for licking the remains away. About the stress of exams and dates and lessons and kisses.

But of course, it was going to go wrong. How could it not? It always did, Merlin reasoned. He told he was safe there, protected. So many precautions had been put in place to ensure it, it just seemed so impossible for something like that to sneak passed the watchful eyes on him at all times. The murderer, still on the loose and the police with no leads to go on, shouldn’t have been able to find him. In fact, they should never be given the chance to meet again. That’s what he’d convinced himself, at least. That he could get on with his life, mourning and grieving, and never have to see or hear that fucking bastard again.

So when he found the note, all he could wonder is _how did he find me?_

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

Gwaine gasped loudly, biting off a pleasured groan when Percy pressed him firmly and roughly against the wall of their dormitory. He wriggled and was pleased to note that he couldn't escape. Percy would always hold him just tight enough to keep him there but enough that he could get away if he wished. It was only when he lost control, so consumed by his want and need for _Gwaine_ that he held on tighter, just to keep him at his mercy. He loved those moments, always felt a little smug at his power to fray this powerful man's nerves.

Percy licked a trail along the tendons on Gwaine's neck and grinned wolfishly. Gwaine smiled widely, and bit his bottom lip teasingly, arching his neck. He moaned when Percy bit down harshly on the junction between neck and shoulder and his hips buckled involuntarily.

"God, you're so gorgeous like this," Percy complimented breathlessly, hands frantically tugging the button up shirt off, leaving the expanse of flesh bare for his touch.

"I'm always gorgeous," Gwaine quipped, the last word hitching on a groan when his nipple was suckled, teeth scraping across the sensitive skin.

"Clearly if you're still talking, I'm not doing a very good job," he commented, "I should try harder."

"Oh, I think you're very hard baby."

Percy reared upwards to steal a harsh kiss, biting down on his bottom lip, and grabbed one of Gwaine's hands to press down firmly on his tented underwear. He bit back a moan of pleasure when the strong hand flexed teasingly around his erection.

"Oh, you like to play," Percy mocked, fingers tracing the swollen lips of his lover, tips dipping into his mouth, "Why don't you put your mouth to good use?"

"With pleasure," Gwaine assured huskily.

Percy spun them around easily, his back against the wall and his hips inclined upwards. He let out a small breath when hands fumbled with the zipper on his black trousers and, after what seemed like hours, the pressure on his cock was lifted. His trousers fell to his ankles, followed quickly by his underwear, and his cock twitched at the hit of cold air. Pre-cum leaked from the head.

Gwaine's eyes crossed as he zeroed in on his prize and he licked his lips hungrily. He pressed a filthy kiss to the wet head, one that made Percy gasp and a hand, sturdy and eager, tightened in his hair. Gwaine looked up through his eyelashes, took in a deep breath and swallowed around the length. Percy cursed loudly, bending over at the waist.

The hesitant knock at their dormitory door made them tense suddenly, alarm bubbling in their stomachs. Gwaine pulled away reluctantly, missing the feeling already, and Percy shivered when spit cooled around his member. He didn’t make any move to cover it though.

There was another knock, a little louder this time, and an uncertain voice spoke, a little muffled through the door. “Um, Percy? Gwaine? It’s Will, from the Headmaster’s office. He sent me to tell you that you both need to come to his office immediately. Apparently, it’s of the utmost importance.”

It was Percy that managed to recover first. “Uh, okay, thank you,” he answered his voice a little higher than it normally was, “We’re, uh. We’re getting ready. Tell the headmaster, um, five minutes?”

“Oh, of course,” Will hurriedly agreed, and his footsteps, a little heavy footed, could be heard as they backed away from the doorway. It was only when they could no longer be heard, faded into the distance, that both 7th years relaxed.

“Well, that was close,” Gwaine commented dryly.

“Five minutes,” Percy repeated slowly. His eyes darkened slightly and he shifted his hips pointedly. The tip of his cock nudged against Gwaine’s cheek, leaving a mark behind. “You have five minutes.”

Gwaine grinned wickedly at the challenge, before settling back into work at an accelerated pace. After all, they only had five minutes.

 

*

 

_Earlier that morning…_

 

Merlin stirred quietly from his slumber, only the fluttering of his eyes and the subtle change in breathing were the indicators. It had become a normal occurrence, replacing the tears and the screaming, which he had to admit was preferable. Although, really, nothing beat waking up to Arthur.

Arthur was awake, Merlin knew that instantly, but he lay as still as possible, one arm wrapped tightly around his lithe waist, as a hand ran absentmindedly along his forearm, bringing forth goosebumps. Merlin breathed in deeply, and tilted his head upwards, meeting the wide blue eyes that he had definitely grown attached to. He smiled instinctively in greeting, and nuzzled closer into his bare chest.

“Merry Christmas,” Arthur whispered.

“Hmm, merry Christmas,” Merlin hummed.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked. Arthur had seemed to take up the habit of asking him, since the first time and well, it had just become part of their morning routine.

“Good, just as I have been for the past seven nights,” Merlin pointed out, leaning up onto his arm so he was looking down at the blond man, a teasing smile on his face. “It must be because of your dream catching superpowers.”

“Hmm, I have been using my powers for good recently haven’t I?” Arthur joked back. He gave him a long look, something lusty and hesitant, “Maybe I won’t tonight…”

Merlin arched an eyebrow. “No?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, “Maybe I’ll use my powers to my own advantage.”

“And how would you do that exactly?”

Arthur bit his bottom lip before responding, “I suppose I could make you dream of me.”

“Of you?”

“Of course me…on my knees, in front of you,” he continued awkwardly, a look of uncertainty on his face as he wondered whether or not to continue.

Merlin was definitely in approval of going forward with this new idea. It had been just over a month and, although the men spent their nights together in the same bed, the conversation of sex or anything other than incredibly heated snogging sessions hadn’t really been approached. But if Arthur wanted to start it in this way, he wasn’t about to complain. His ears tinged pink at the tips and he fidgeted under the covers. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth for a moment before answering.

His voice was shaky. “Really? And what exactly are you doing on your knees?”

“Sucking your cock of course,” Arthur tried to answer as causally as possible.

“Of course,” Merlin agreed breathlessly. His cock was _definitely_ taking an interest in this conversation. His hand moved to cover it.

“And I’d be good at it too,” Arthur continued, “I’d be able to take you all in, into my throat. It would feel good, being so stretched out and ready for you to take me, I’d let you do whatever you wanted,” his eyes, alert and so very intense, turned to stare him, “Wha…what would you want to do?”

His lips was parted, still a bruised red from the ferocity of the kissing session the night before, and Merlin couldn’t help but reach out and feel the slightly dried skin against his fingers. God, he could just imagine that they would look like, so obscenely stretched around his cock. Yeah, he had a few things he wanted to do.

“I…” he trailed off slightly. He’d never done this before. Hell, he’d never even been kissed before Arthur. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. But Arthur was looking up at him so imploringly, eyes darkened with anticipation for what was to come, that Merlin refused to let him be disappointed, so he answered as honestly – and as quickly – as he could. “…I’d want to fuck your mouth.”

“Really?” Arthur’s eyes had blown wide.

Merlin licked his lips and his legs spread a little involuntarily, making space for the uncomfortable weight now growing between his legs. “Y-yeah and I’d want to watch you do it. See how much you loved it. And then I’d…” he took in a shaky breath and discreetly tried to press down on his cock. Arthur’s eyes dropped down to see the evidence of how much this was affecting him. He shifted his hips, the bunched up duvet falling slightly and the raised area could be clearly seen. Merlin couldn’t keep his eyes off.

“And then I’d want to touch you…”

“Where?”

“Everywhere, anywhere, but especially your perfectly perky arse,” Merlin answered.

“And what would you do with my perky arse?”

“I’d fuck it,” his reply was simple, “I’d have to stretch it first, and you’d beg for my cock, because my fingers just aren’t enough for you.”

“Me, beg? Clearly you think very highly of yourself,” Arthur quipped.

“It’s only a recent thing, you haven’t exactly done anything to prove me wrong,” Merlin commented.

“I may have to allow it…it is your dreams after all,” he trailed off slightly. There was silent for a moment before Arthur huffed out heavily, causing Merlin to blink in confusion. “Okay, so I’m now too horny to keep playing my own game. Do you…can I…?”

“I want to touch you,” Merlin breathed.

“Oh thank fuck,” Arthur whispered as if it were a prayer, and flung back the covers and presented himself in a way that lacked all self consciousness. His cock, hard and red, rested heavily on his stomach, and one of Arthur’s strong hands reached down to grip it tightly. He groaned at the touch and, with his free hand, reached out to grope for Merlin, who clung to the offered hand tightly, heart racing with the keenness and knowledge for what was about to happen.

Arthur easily bent Merlin’s hand around his cock and he let out a small hiss as he did so. Merlin blinked, a little lost now that he was there, holding the pulsing member in his hand, so real and, well, hard, that all those feelings of insecurity returned. He looked at Arthur for help.

The blond eyebrows were furrowed. “Alex, if you don’t want to, you don’t-“

Merlin cut him off hurriedly. “I do, I really do,” he insisted, “It’s just, uh; I’m not…show me how to make it good for you.”

Arthur watched him for a moment before nodding slowly. He tightened the grip slightly and twisted his wrist a little for a better grip. One hand rested as a guide on Merlin’s thin wrist, beginning the repetitive motions easily, encouraging the long fingers to massage across his head, collecting the leaking pre-cum to use as lube. Arthur breath picked up and his hips began to jerk upwards, into the hold, needing the friction. Merlin’s fingernails traced the vein on the underside of his cock and Arthur whined lowly.

He was close, much too close for his liking, but there was no way to stop it, not without ending Alex’s movements and really, there was no way in heck he was going to do that. Not when the look of concentration on his face was so wonderfully arousing, all his attention forced solely on the task of getting him off. It was almost too much. His balls tightened close to his body and he wasn’t aware he had muttered a command until hands unskilfully fondled them.

When he came, his back arched suddenly, nails digging into the sheets beneath him and his toes curled in pleasure. Cum splattered across his chest and thighs and, when he had the right frame of mind to blink his eyes open, all over Alex’s hand. The man looked confused and a little curious as to what to do with the white mess, staring with need filled eyes.

Arthur made a sated noise and Merlin glanced at him, cheeks flushed with desire. He was so turned on, so close and hard that it almost hurt. When Arthur lazily pulled back the covers, his cock jumped for attention, the tip red, pre-cum dripping steadily from the tip. He felt a little self-aware with so much of him on display, but the appreciative look that Arthur slide over him kept him from trying to hide.

“Arthur…” he said the name like a plea.

“I’m going to make you cum Alex,” Arthur promised quietly. “Come here,” he encouraged, spreading his shaky legs with some effort and Merlin moved rapidly to settle between them. The chest against his back was warm and sticky but by this point, he really didn’t care. Arthur leant over forward, chin resting on his right shoulder and breathing heavily in his ear, and Merlin watched, wondering what Arthur would do, as he led their hands, drying cum spreading from one to the other, to grasp tightly around his cock.

“It’s okay Alex,” he whispered, “Touch yourself. Show me. I want to watch you cum for me. Is that okay?”

Merlin couldn’t even manage real words, his agreement lodging itself high in his throat. Only a small zealous noise at the back of his throat was given as a response, head rolling backwards onto Arthur’s shoulders, and he watched through half lidded eyes as his trembling hand travelled along his shaft.

He was close, so close, and Arthur was breathing heavily in his ears, whispering filth in a gravelled voice about how good he looked, asking how good it felt – “you’re so hard, god, so close, aren’t you? You want to cum for me, don’t you?”

The tip of a finger – his or Arthur’s, he couldn’t be sure – dipped into his slit briefly, rubbing at the walls, and it was as if his stomach, once tight and churning, had dropped out of him. He cried out a word, unrecognisable to his own ears, and his hips thrust without coordination into the high grip. Hot cum landed on his stomach and chest, his hands and some dripped onto the bed sheets that, by this point, were in desperate need of a change. Merlin’s body relaxed backwards, slumped into Arthur, who clutched him through the aftershocks. He muttered something that Merlin couldn’t really understand at that moment against the skin of neck and placed sweet, simple kisses along the curve of it.

Merlin turned his head towards Arthur, and pushed their lips together. It was a little awkward because of the position they were in, but neither seemed to care, just letting their lips slide wetly against each other until the tremors disappeared from their bodies and Arthur breathed out a contented sigh.

“That was hot,” he commented.

Merlin laughed. “And sticky,” he added, “I’m going to need a shower.”

“But it was worth it.”

“Definitely one of the best Christmas mornings ever,”

Arthur arched an eyebrow. “One of the best? Oh, I’ll have to try harder next time.”

“If you’re suggesting we make this a Christmas tradition, I’m all for it.”

“I’ll make in a note in my schedule,” Arthur grinned.

“But first, shower,” Merlin reminded.

“Urgh, definitely, I think we may be stuck together.” The blond griped, carefully pushing Merlin off his chest. The sound was a little sickening and Merlin grimaced at the pull of his skin. Arthur climbed out of the bed and stretched upwards, giving his bed partner the opportunity to eye him appreciatively. The man did look good completely naked.

_‘Even better covered in his own cum,’_

Arthur shot him a mischievous smile over his shoulders. “Race you to shower?”

“Hey, no fair,” Merlin whined, as he scrambled to his feet, “You had a head start!”

Honestly, he couldn’t find it in himself to be anything other than awed at the look at Arthur standing in their shower, water droplets falling along the rivets of his chiselled back, sliding between the swell of his backside. He shook his head sending water flying at Merlin, who made a noise of objection. Arthur took no notice, and held out an open hand, gently encouraging him into the small cleaning space. He pulled him close and buried a face in the crook of his neck, and Merlin breathed in deeply, utterly happy, probably he realised for the first time in months.

It’s sad how quickly those feelings can be destroyed.

It had become a ritual among his new group of friends that the ones who stayed at school for the holidays (Gwen and Elyan had gone home to spend the holidays with their father, and Mithan and Leon were bringing their families together for the first time) would open their presents together. It had to be done during a certain period in the morning because of an apparently unavoidable Pendragon family dinner (Merlin wasn’t told much about it, only that it was one of the only times that his uncle, Tristan, was given leave from the care home, and that Arthur loved to see him). This year, it would happen in Morgana’s room. When she answered the door, she complained that they had taken too long, glaring in annoyance at the two, which was just as scary as it was normally, even with the floppy Santa’s hat perched on the top of her head.

Arthur rolled his eyes and entered the room with little care. “Come on it’s Christmas,” he tried to appease.

“I don’t want to imagine what you guys were doing,” Morgana ranted.

Dana smirked from her place by the little tree that had been placed in the room. “I can,” she commented. Merlin flushed red.

“Doing what we should be doing,” Gwaine grumbled under his breath, and Percy grinned, pulling him close to off a kiss in appeasement. It seemed to work, if only a little bit.

“I want details later,” Elena told Merlin firmly.

Lance’s face twisted into something akin to distaste. “I love you man, but seriously, no details.”

“Can we open presents now?” Merlin questioned loudly, his grip on the gifts tightening as he desperately tried to change the subject.

Morgana seemed to take pity on him. “Good idea, we’ve waited long enough,” she paused to shoot daggers at her little brother, “So who’s first?”

Most of what Merlin received was little trinkets that made him smile. Dana had gotten him a little statue of a dragon (“it just reminded me of you,” she had explained with a shrug); Gwen and Lance had gotten him a huge photo album with a note that read ‘because you said you wanted a place for new memories’, Elyan, a black belt (‘because I think you’ve earned it’); Percy had given him a red neckerchief, and Gwaine had offered the gag gift of a vibrating dildo that had Merlin blushed a deep red as he panicked to hide it; Morgana had brought him a moonstone (“it’s supposed to be for protection or something”); Mithan and Leon had brought him a 1st edition book of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, his proclaimed favourite book; and Arthur…Arthur had given him a leather bound notebook, old and definitely expensive.

He traced the leather straps and bronze lock on the front and gave Arthur a disbelieving look. The blond looked a little smug.

“Well, you’ve been writing a lot lately,” he reasoned. He didn’t get the chance to say anything else because Merlin had reared forward and pressed a kiss of gratitude to his lips. The others wolf-whistled teasingly.

And then it was the last gift that completely ruined his day.

No one was sure who it was from; Morgana had said that it was in the rec room when she was grabbing the gifts sent by parents the day before. It was a thin box, with white and silver snowflake wrapping paper with a blue bow attached to the front. The tag only read his name – his _new_ name - in simple black ink.

He opened it carefully and just froze.

There was only a piece of paper, thin and little crumbled, inside but it was the words it read that made his heart rate pick up with panic. No…it couldn’t be…but who else? It made no sense otherwise.

“Alex, are you okay?” Arthur asked worriedly.

“Yeah, you’re looking a little…green,” Dana added.

“What, no, nothing’s wrong,” Merlin quickly tried to assure. Heads leant closer and he quickly grabbed the note, crushing it in his palm, stopping anyone else for getting a glimpse at it. He was almost glad that Gwaine and Percy had snuck off only a little earlier, with the dark haired man loudly announcing his intention to have his way with his larger partner. He stood abruptly, concerned eyes making him angsty.

“I need to call my dad,” he blurted out, probably a lot louder than he needed to, “You know, Christmas and all.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before he left the room. He clutched tightly to the paper in his hands, anxiously hoping that maybe if he held on a little tighter, the words just wouldn’t exist anymore. But no. They were there, clear as day and telling the end of the safe cocoon he had convinced him that he was in.

The words echoed around his mind, taunting him.

_Found you._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To old readers: I am so sorry it took me this long to post the update for this fic, I know you've been waiting impatiently and I thank you all for sticking with me <3
> 
> To new readers: Welcome! Hope you enjoy and that you won't have to wait as long for another chapter, like all the others :3

 

“How did he find me?” Merlin demanded frantically.

“I don’t know,” Cohen answered stiffly.

“You promised me I’d be safe a-and…”

“I know, but I don’t know,” Cohen shouted, forcing Merlin to fall silent. He sighed heavily and muttered an apology. He hadn’t meant to shout.

When Merlin had barraged into the unsuspecting Headmaster’s office only two hours before, he had barely been able to form words through his heavy, panicked pants. He’d just shoved the crumpled piece of paper into Uther’s chest and it had taken the man all of three seconds to reach for the phone to call in the Chief Inspector. Merlin looked as if he were ready to pass out, so he’d encouraged the student gently into one of the plush armchairs and ordered Will, his trainee assistant, to get the boy a hot drink for his nerves. He’d then sent for Gwaine and Percy.

Now, Cohen and Barton were pacing the length of his office, eyebrows furrowed with confusion as if they couldn’t believe what was happening. Avain Vhalos had taken the spare armchair across from his ‘son’, and Gwaine and Percy, ever the protectors, had taken station at Merlin’s side. Percy had one arm thrown tightly over Merlin’s shoulders, dwarfing him even more than usual, and the boy seemed to lean into the hold, taking comfort from the steady weight. Gwaine had a hold on one of his hands and Merlin gripped it so tightly his knuckles were beginning to whiten. To his credit, Gwaine didn’t react.

Uther hadn’t say anything since the boy had arrived, since the detectives had shown up and begin the demanding inquiry into what had happened that had left both parties frustrated by the lack of information that could be given. He just sat behind his desk and watched the events unfold.

“Okay, tell me again, how did the box even get to you?” Barton questioned slowly.

“I told you, Morgana brought it up,” Merlin sighed heavily, “She said it was in the pile of delivered gifts yesterday. It made my new name on it, how did he even…”

“Obviously there’s only one possible explanation for that,” Gwaine snorted.

“…Someone trusted with this information knows the murderer,” Percy continued.

“How many people know about Merlin being placed in this school?” Avain demanded, his voice cool yet dangerous. It was clear that he was just as angry about this as anyone else.

“Just us,” Cohen answered, “this kind of information is on a need to know bases.”

“So how could anyone have figured it out?”

“That Morgause girl knew,” Barton reminded.

It was then Uther spoke up. “My daughter isn’t a threat. She wouldn’t do something like this.”

“We’re not saying she would,” the detective quickly tried to appease, “But if Morgause managed to find out, it’s safe to say that Camelot Academy isn’t completely protected.”

“Shouldn’t you have checked this kind of thing out before sending the kid here?” Avain tilted his head.

“We only agreed to place him here under Uther insistence,” Cohen defended.

“Gaius was my friend,” Uther retorted, “I owe him a lot and if protecting his nephew is the only way I can do, I will do so with everything I have.”

“Well you haven’t been doing a good job,” Barton stated dryly.

Uther turned a deep crimson, a dangerous red that threatened to blow, and Cohen was quick to try and disperse the tension.

“Let’s get back on topic, okay?” he interrupted loudly, “Merlin, we don’t know how this happened but we will find out.”

Merlin nodded tiredly. “…I know…”

“The best course of action for now is act as if nothing has happened,” he continued.

Avain arched an eyebrow. “That’s your big plan? To ignore it?”

“For Merlin to ignore it, yes, or at least to act like it. If the murderer is getting information from someone in this school, or even if he’s here, the best thing to do is to not give them the satisfaction of showing him that he’s got us scared.” Cohen rationalised, “Barton and I will speed up the investigation. We’ve got a few names from old cases that had similar markings and we’ll start looking into them-“

“Later, you’ll look into them later,” Merlin told them, “It’s Christmas, spend that with your families.”

Cohen blinked once. “Whatever you want,” he conceded, grateful for the understanding this one child possessed. It seemed almost petty and selfish to worry about his wife’s reaction to him missing another holiday for another case, not when this boy had no family to speak of. “We’ll start tomorrow and the protection with be doubled up - two squad cars every hour and extra security on the checking of postal deliveries. Obviously, Gwaine and Percy will keep a good eye on you, and I’m sure they’ll take it upon themselves to try and find the rat?”

Gwaine grinned dangerously. “Oh, you can be sure of that.”

“Good,” Cohen nodded approvingly, “Now, Merlin, do me a favour and try to enjoy the day, okay? Spend it with your friends, surrounded by people, anything to keep your mind off of everything that’s happening. You deserve at least one day of relaxation before you go onto high alert once more.”

Merlin nodded hesitantly, and hid his face in Percy’s chest. Gwaine squeezed his hand comfortingly.

There was a gently knock on the door, turning everyone’s attention towards it. Uther, with a sigh, called the person in and Will poked his head nervously around a crack in the door.

“Um, Mr Pendragon, your brother-in-law just called,” he recited, “He wanted to let you know that he and Tristan will be within the premises soon.”

“Bugger,” Uther cursed under his breath. He stood up, buttoning up his open suit jacket, and smiled faintly, “Thank you for reminding me Will.”

The boy nodded once and, after dragging a curious eye around the room, closed the door with a click behind him.

“Gentleman, I apologise but I’m going to have to make my leave,” Uther stated politely, “I have a family dinner to attend that I simply cannot escape from.”

“Of course, Mr Pendragon,” Cohen conceded.

“Feel free to stay as long you need to get your things in order,” the headmaster offered before he swept from the room.

“I’ll put the order in,” Barton told the room, already pulling his phone from his pocket as he headed out.

“If you boys get any leads or suspicions about someone, let me know,” Cohen ordered firmly, “And if another one of those notes turns up, you tell me straight away, okay Merlin? You have my number. Even if you don’t want to talk, just send a text with what it says and when you got it, okay?”

Merlin nodded in acceptance.

Cohen breathed out. “Good. We’ll sort this out kid, I promise.” He glanced at Avain, who had already stood up and was draping his coat delicately over his arms. “You need a ride back into town Doc?”

“No thank you Chief Inspector,” Avain gently declined, “While I’m here, I might as well see my son. He’s been so distracted by the Pendragon girl that I’ve hardly heard from him. I have to fulfil my duties as an embarrassing parent, now don’t I?” He tilted his head, “Merry Christmas. Until next week Merlin.”

Percy nudged his friend and ward gently. “Hey, we should go too.” He stated gently, “The others were probably worried.”

“Yeah, Dana said you left in a hurry,” Gwaine added, “Just be glad that Gwen and Mithan weren’t here. They’d smother you with their mothering.”

Merlin quirked a smile. “You know what, I may regret saying this, but that actually sounds good right about now.”

Gwaine feigned shock. “Oh my god, Percy, our baby boy’s sick!” he exclaimed overdramatically.

Percy rolled his eyes fondly at his boyfriend and Merlin’s smile widened. He couldn’t be more grateful for the distraction of his crazy friend.

 

*

 

_Blood…so much of it, he remembers. Hitting the once clean floors in horrific and grotesque patterns._

_And screams. Always accompanied with screams. Ones of panic and fear; of pain and desperation. There was pleading too. Begging. As if that would stop them. “We don’t know who the dragon lord is,” Gaius had shouted, anguish filling his voice, “Just stop…please stop!”_

_Then his mother had cried out, and then her silence was abrupt. Shift and clean. He didn’t even hear the gurgling sound as blood poured from her slit throat. His uncle had let out a bitter sob and his father had roared as if his heart had been ripped out and all he was now, was anger. He pulled at the binds that held him, the chair scrapping across the floorboards, but he was unable to get loose._

_Like him. Like Merlin. Stuck and powerless, as he had been since his father had forced him inside here. How many days ago was that now? He couldn’t be sure. It felt as if he’d been crying for months now. His eyes were sore, no doubt red, and his throat was scratching, aching, from all the yelling he had done. But no one ever seemed to hear him._

_So he was stuck there, watching as the lives of his family were ended in the worst possible way. He’d tried looking away, shielding from the sight, but he couldn’t stop the noises and that was worse. He couldn’t stand to hear their agony..._

Merlin jolted awake, arms flailing randomly and grasping tightly on the body beside him to anchor him to reality. He breathed heavily, sweat lining his skin, and he closed his eyes briefly in defeat and annoyance at himself. The nightmares had returned in tenfold since the note only a few days before, returning to him as day dreams as well as nightmares. He just couldn’t escape them. He cursed himself for it.

He could tell that Arthur was awake next to him, was watching him concerned and god, Merlin wished that he had something to tell the blond, but he couldn’t. He took a moment to calm his breathing before he opened his eyes and glanced cautiously at the form beside him. Sure enough, Arthur’s eyes were fixed firmly onto him, a frown in place.

“Are you ever going to tell me what your dreams are about?” he questioned, his voice low and just so tired at Merlin keeping things from him. Guilt struck him.

“Maybe, sometime,” Merlin answered, “I wish I could but…”

“You can,” Arthur insisted. He reached out and grasped the long hand in his own grip, holding onto his comfortingly and pressing a kiss to the knuckles. “You can tell me anything, Alex. You have the know that.”

The name made him flinch. He hated when Arthur used it. Another reminder of the lies he was telling; another reminder that, at some point, he was going to have to come clean about every story he had told and hope, pray, that Arthur would understand. He couldn’t stand the thought of Arthur hating him, expressed so clearly, burning in his blue eyes.

“But not this, not now,” Merlin finally managed to say. Arthur sighed and he felt as the blond began to pull away. Merlin tightened his grip desperately onto the hand, “It’s not just my secret Arthur; you have to understand. These nightmares – they’re a time of my life I don’t want to remember-“

“But you _are_ remembering them. Every night,” Arthur reminded.

“I know I am, and I don’t want you to have to experience them too,” Merlin continued firmly, “I see those memories everywhere I look, except when I’m with you. I don’t want to lose that…” he admitted quietly.

Arthur looked unconvinced but sighed anyway, his shoulders slumped. He pressed a kiss to Merlin’s lips, a brief movement of lips, and he pulled back to give him a serious look. “I’ll drop it, for now, but you can’t keep it from me forever. I want you to be able to trust me with all parts of you, even the parts that you’d rather no one know.”

Merlin nodded slowly. “I want that too…”

“Will you be able to sleep again tonight?” Arthur wondered.

“Probably not,” the dark haired man confessed. “But you should sleep. I don’t want to keep you.”

The blond shook his head. “How can I sleep if you’re going to be suffering? No, I’ll stay awake with you,” he decided, the look on his face telling that he wouldn’t be swayed.

Merlin sighed and snuggled into the man’s chest, placing a kiss on the centre of his chest and couldn’t help the swelling of his heart at just how amazing Arthur was, even if he was a bit of prat a times. “Could you talk to me?” he asked after a moment. Arthur talking always seemed to help chasing the darkness away.

Arthur settled an arm around him, one hand rising up to run through the thick dark locks. “What do you want me to talk about?” he wondered.

“…Tell me about your family,” Merlin finally decided, “If you want,” he added quickly.

He felt Arthur smiled faintly against his head. “I want,” he agreed, “Hmm, where to start…

“Well, I’m the youngest Pendragon and, as the only son, I’m supposed to be the next in line to take over the running of the school. I’m not sure whether I actually want to do that, but honestly, I wouldn’t want to disappoint my father by refusing. Morgana would probably be better served though as a headmistress. You and I both know she likes control and ordering people about. She’s my half sister, her mother a lover of my father’s. And she has a sister, Morgause. She’s magical, like seriously powerful and her boyfriend’s supposed to be descended from some warrior sorcerer or something. I’m not sure. Anyway, when their mum died, my dad took them both in. He took care of them as best he could and, then he met my mother, Ygraine.

“Father won’t tell me much about her, but I don’t think he likes to talk about her. It’s really my uncles, Agravaine and Tristan that have told me stories about her. She was their older sister and Tristan has all of these old photo albums in his room – apparently, it helps with his memory and he doesn’t want to forget his family – he’s getting better, I think. He remembered all our names at Christmas dinner and he could keep up a conversation for about 30 minutes before he began to lose it again. It’s a massive set forward from anything before.

“See, Uncle Tristan was hurt in the same car accident that my mother died in. Uncle Agravaine said that she had just picked me up from nursery and Tristan had needed picking up on his way from the rugby field – he was an amazing player when he was younger, he could have gone professional – and she’d be driving up the hill towards the old Pendragon home – it is this huge manor house that has been in my family for generations. It’s empty, really, lonely, so we don’t go up there that often but at that time, we all lived there together.” Arthur took in a slightly breath as he continued, “Agravaine said that there was an icy patch on the road and the car has spun out of control. It wrapped around a tree. I don’t remember any of this. It’s like the accident and everything before is a blank patch that has been filled in with pictures and stories from other people, but I have no emotional connection to it, you know?

“My mother, she died on impact, and Tristan suffered a serious head injury that forced a type of early on Dementia and he lost use of both his legs. Apparently, I was awake when the paramedics found me and I just had a mild concussion and cuts and bruises – I had been on the opposite side of the impact so I was relatively okay. After that day, everything changed according to Morgause. My father was angry and withdrawn – he’s gotten better since, of course, but I don’t think he could cope with the idea of my mother being gone. Agravaine didn’t visit as much and Morgana told me she used to see them arguing a lot. Morgause became like a mother to me – a seriously annoying, overprotective mother so if you ever get the joy of meeting her – and if I have it my way, you will – you’d best be prepared for an interrogation, okay?”

When he didn’t get a reply, he glanced down to the body pressed up against him and couldn’t help but to smile fondly. Alex was asleep, eyes closed delicately and lips parted as he breathed deeply through them. One of his hands was clutching at Arthur’s shirt and the blond watched as his bed mate stirred slightly, before curling into him, burying his face into the fabric and breathing in deeply. It looked as if he had been in the land of dreams for a while. Arthur chuckled lightly. He used the hand in the boy’s hair to push his fringe out of the way and bent awkwardly to press a kiss to the pale forehead.

“Sleep well,” he muttered quietly, settling his head against the boy’s crown and letting his eyes flutter closed.

 

*

 

“Did he get my note?”

“Oh yes, you should have seen him running blindly through the corridors.”

“Excellent, well done, my friend.”

“Should I get him for you? Because I could-“

“No, you’ve done you’re job for now Sigan. Besides, my boss wants him for something…special…”

“What do you mean ‘something special’?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern now, is it?”

“Oh, no of course not, I just thought…”

“Well don’t, I’m not paying you to think. I’m paying you to do as I tell you.”

“…What do you want me to do then?”

“Wait a while, let him simmer a little more. Relax his guard again, and then he’ll get another message.”

“That’s all you’re going to do? Give him messages?”

“For now, yes. I need him running scared. Enough that he will abandon the watchful eyes of those surrounding him and give me the chance to get a hold of him.”

“That’s going to be a little difficult…ever since he and Pendragon started fucking, they’ve been attached by the hip.”

“Or by the cock. It doesn’t matter anyway. Merlin will do what I tell him, because he doesn’t want anything to happen to his precious little boyfriend.”

“So you’re going after Pendragon?”

“Sadly, no, I have orders against that. But Merlin doesn’t know that, does he?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My plan is to post two chapters tonight and then another two tomorrow as a kind of 'I'm really sorry, have more fic as an apology'. We're getting into the main crux of the story now, where things are getting revealed and I'd loved to know what you think of them, what you think is going to happen next, what you'd want to happen next. Really, I'd love to hear it all!
> 
> Leave your comments either here or on my [tumblr](http://queenofhales.tumblr.com) :)


	9. Chapter 9

 

The second note arrived in the middle of January. It had been pinned onto his chair in his Biology lesson with blue tack on a Tuesday morning, with words that simply read ‘I’m watching you’. Fear had struck him, freezing him in place, and it was only his need for no one else to find out that got him moving. Gwen had peered at him worriedly, maybe a little cautiously, as if he were a skittish animal that was about to bolt – maybe it was. At that moment, he’d like nothing more than to just get out of there. But he’d smiled, brushed off her concerns and sat down gently on the edge of the seat (well, he could never know if something had been done to it). The note had remained screwed up at the bottom of his bag, and an annoying ache at the back of his mind, all day.

During the break between lesson and dinner, Merlin had told Gwaine and Percy. Both had frowned deeply. Neither was sure what kind of game the bastard was playing with them but they didn’t like it. Gwaine had taken the note, muttering something about evidence, and Percy had assured him that they would speak to the Headmaster for him – “The CCTV cameras are ancient, but they might have caught something. Don’t worry, let us handle it.”

Cohen had dropped by a few days afterwards to tell Merlin that they thought they had a lead.

“There are cases similar to the murders of your parents and uncle stretching out for years across the United Kingdom,” he had begun, “The idea of a serial killer was something we had thought about looking into, but considering the randomness of the attack, our boss told us to drop that line of inquiry and more onto another, more likely, explanation. But then we found this – lists of families over the last ten years that had been brutalised in their homes, most solved and some not.”

“So what’s the connection?” he had asked quietly.

“See, we think that the same man that was responsible for the deaths of the Emrys’ family, is the same person who was hired to the same thing in all these towns and villages,” Cohen continued, “they’re too far apart, in place and in time, for systems to flag up, but one of our new coppers, she noticed it first.”

“Do you know who it is?”

“Only one man has a connection with all of them. A man that goes by the name of Valiant, you heard of him?”

Merlin went to shake his head when he halted suddenly. A memory hit him, overwhelming him. Valiant…the name was familiar, but not from something like a new bulletin or from the mouth of his parents. No, this was…different.

“I…I think I heard someone say it, when it happened,” he offered quietly. “There were two men and one was scolding the other for moving too quickly…”

_“They still haven’t told me where I can find him,” the man had hissed out, frustration leaking into his well-spoken voice, “I don’t want them incapacitated before then.”_

_“Don’t you worry boss,” the second man, younger and full of malice, “They’ll speak; I can guarantee it.”_

_“You better Valiant, otherwise I’ll put your head on a spike, understand?”_

“…they were arguing,” Merlin finished.

“Are you sure this other man said the name Valiant?” Cohen pressed.

Merlin nodded. “I’m positive.”

Cohen seemed to breathe in a sigh of relief. “Good man,” he praised, already reaching into his pocket and putting a mobile phone to his ear, “Barton, put out an APB on Valiant and any of his known affiliates. The kid just confirmed it.”

 

*

 

Hunith’s birthday had been on the 6th February. Merlin had almost forgotten it, what with all the drama that had happened in the past few weeks, but that morning, when he was gently roused from sleep by Arthur climbing from the bed to restart his running routine; it had hit him like a ton of bricks. Pain and guilt filled him for not remembering, followed by sorrow and loss at the knowledge she would not experience another birthday, not in this world anyway. He’d had to blink back tears and pull the covers tightly over his chest when Arthur returned so he would not see the sadness on his face.

Of course, Arthur had noticed almost instantly when he’d pulled back the covers, chuckling lightly, to kiss him in a good morning greeting. He’d stopped short at the wetness of the blue eyes and a look of worry cross his face.

“What’s the matter?” he demanded to know, “has something happened?”

Merlin shook his head furiously, rolling his lips inwards and didn’t trust himself to speak. He waited a moment before taking in a shudder breath. When he finally managed to answer, his voice was weak and hoarse. He didn’t even recognise himself. “…it’s her birthday…”

Arthur looked confused for a moment. “ _Her_ birthday? Oh, god, your mother! It’s your mother’s birthday? Oh, Alex…” he had trailed off sympathetically and easily manoeuvred the long lanky body to rest on his chest, the embrace of his arms strong and tight, as if he could force comfort into his lover with sheer force. Arthur had still been sweaty and stinking from his run, but Merlin honestly didn’t care at that period of time. Because Arthur was there, holding him, muttering reassurances into his ear and letting him cry tears of anguish into his shirt.

Arthur spoke softly, although Merlin barely registered the words, until the tears had petered down into a drizzle. “There, do you feel better?” he inquired.

“…A little bit, sorry about your shirt,” Merlin sniffed.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s got to go in the wash anyway,” the blond brushed off the apology, “Why don’t you take the day off today?”

“My mum won’t have liked for me to do that,” he sighed heavily in response, trying to ignore how much he liked that idea.

“It’s just for today, I’m sure she would understand,” Arthur persuaded easily, nuzzling against the shell of Merlin’s ears, “Besides, I don’t think today is the day for you to face the world. You’ve been really distractedly lately; you haven’t been sleeping well and now, the feelings of today? You should stay here for today. Get some sleep, write a bit; spend some time remembering the good times by yourself and then, I’ll come back at lunch and we can spent the rest of the afternoon together,” he promised.

“Don’t you have lessons in the afternoon?” Merlin questioned.

Arthur shrugged. “I’ve already got an A in Resistant Materials. I can afford to miss one lesson. I would stay here all day with you if, one, I didn’t think you needed some time for just you, and two, if I miss another Maths lesson, my father’s going to rip me a new one.”

“That would be useful,” the dark-haired boy blinked innocently.

Arthur barked out a laugh. “Oh, so you’re a comedian now. Uh-huh, alright, I’ll give you the morning to think about some of those uses and we can experiment when I get back.” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, succeeding in making his bed mate smile. “Now, there’s the look I love,” he commented, using one hand to trace his knuckles across the stretch of his lips, “Now, I need to have a shower.”

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything,” Merlin teased.

Arthur grinned in response and stole a quick kiss before he extracted himself from the hold. Merlin curled into the covers and took in the area of warmth that Arthur had left behind. He didn’t want to admit out loud that he missed the blond already.

“Besides,” Arthur called from the bathroom door, which was partly open making the sound of running water even louder, “You love me hot and sweaty.”

It was a soothing thing, having Arthur’s presence around the room as he dressed himself for the day. Merlin remained tucked under the covers and watched every movement through hooded eyes, just enjoying the view.

And then he was gone, with a promise to see him soon, and Merlin was left alone to his thoughts. Thoughts that made him want to weep until there wasn’t enough water in his body for tears to be produced from. Thoughts that made him want to scream for the indignation of it all. Because his mother, his wonderful and amazing and caring mother, was gone and he’d never get the chance to go back to those days again, those days he had taken for granted way too often.

Every year, on the days leading up to her birthday, Hunith would insist that no one make a fuss on her. She didn’t like feeling useless or having people obey her every wish. She liked being able to do things for herself and being able to take care of herself. And every year, Balinor would ignore all of those requests and do whatever he wanted to do for his beloved wife. It differed, depending on the year, but it was always something extravagant and over the top that made his mother so awed by it all that she didn’t even remember to scold him for disregarding what she said. Well, for that day, at least.

Last year it had been a surprise party in the Grand Hall of an old estate house that had recently been opened to the public. He had remembered his mother always wanting to go there and never having the time, so when she had been lead into the room, decorated to its high ceilings with silver balloons and banners and streams littering the wooden floors, to neighbours and distant family members and old friends that had blown whistles and pulled party poppers, shouting “Surprise!” at the top of their lungs. It had been a good night and his mother had insistently pushed him, blushing and nervous, into the arms of a ridiculous number of her friend’s son or daughter. Of course, they’d always been good natured about it, and smiled warmly, dancing around the floor for a bit before they departed ways. It was one of his mother’s many wishes for him to find someone he loved more than anything in the world. He was sorry she wouldn’t get to see that for him.

He wondered what she would think of Arthur. His first serious boyfriend and…maybe someone he could see spending the rest of his life with. Of course, it had only been a few months now and he was cautious to even begin to think about something so important so early in their relationship, but events had thought him that life was short and he didn’t want to make a mistake and end up losing Arthur. Not like he had everyone else.

When Arthur got back at lunch, he didn’t comment on the fact that Merlin had dressed himself in the shirt that he had thrown into the washing hamper that morning and for that, he was grateful. It was a little disgusting, admittedly, but Arthur’s smell always succeeded in calming him down and comforting him when he felt like he was going to just break into little pieces, even if that smell was the gross, stale sweat kind. He merely stripped out of his uniform, leaving only his boxer briefs. He said something about the others hoping he felt better soon, and that Gwen might stop by for some best friend company and emergency chocolate after dinner, but he was only vaguely paying attention, as he snuggled closer to the man’s bare chest, breathing out contently.

“Tell me about her,” Arthur told him, “About your mother.”

Merlin smiled and began to tell stories. The happy memories – the ones he had of his mother smiling down at him when she tucked him into bed, and the days at the sea side and the times when he had caught her dancing around the kitchen to some 50s music on the radio. He told Arthur about the time she had caught him trying to nurse a squirrel back to health in his room, how she had caught him in her make-up bag and, how he and one of the neighbours kids had gone down to the stream and he’d come back with a frog in his trousers. It felt good, just to remember. To feel safe enough that he could remember without the memories being tainted by darkness and pain.

_Mum, if you can hear me up there, know that I love you and…I’m going to try to find that one love. In fact, I think I may have found him. I think you’d have liked him. He takes care of him, almost as good as you did, but really, no one was better than you at taking care of us. I hope you’re still looking after Dad and Uncle Gaius as well – God only knows what will happen to them if you’re not around to watch them. Tell them I love them too. And that I miss them, I miss all of you. Don’t worry, the person who hurt you…we’ll find them and they’ll pay for what they did. There will be justice a-and I will try to move on with life without you. Because I have to, until the day I can see you again. It’s only time, right?_

 

*

 

The next note was attached to his dormitory door, but it wasn’t Merlin who found it. He’d come back from Chemistry, his last lesson of the day, and found Arthur sitting on the edge of their beds, staring in confusion at a little slip of paper as if he couldn’t work out what the hell it could possibly mean. He’d laughed and joked about whether that was his report. Arthur had quirked a smile, obviously humouring him, before saying that it had just been there when he got back.

“It doesn’t have a name or anything,” he explained, “And honestly, it just seems like of…strange…”

“Let me see it,” Merlin told him imploringly, trying to keep the fear out of his voice when he began to suspect what it was. The idea that his stalker, the murderer of his family, was this close, so close that Arthur could be next – it brought shivers to the surface of his skin. He wasn’t sure whether he could handle this.

Unfortunately, he was right. The paper was still the same, a thick celebratory card, and as was the writing, simple broad strokes of a felt pen. The words “tick, tock” would have meant nothing to someone who was clueless, like Arthur who just stared at him with a slight frown to his features, but to Merlin, it said too much. Tick, tock – time, maybe it meant his time. Maybe it meant Arthur’s – god, he hoped that wasn’t the case. He refused to let the blond get hurt because of some sick fucker that was after him.

He tried to keep the uneasiness from his face, but it appeared he failed. Arthur had already stood up to hold him comfortingly by the forearms, dipping his head so their foreheads touched, so that he could look Merlin square in the eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he inquired gently, “What does the note mean?”

His throat suddenly constricted and words couldn’t be formed. It took a moment of gapping and swallowed dryly for a sentence, a lie he didn’t even think about, to croak out of him. “Nothing, it’s nothing,” he attempted to reassure; “It’s probably just some prats playing a joke. After all, I’m still the new kid.”

Arthur, however, didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t say anything, merely nodded slowly, releasing his grip on the boy’s shoulders and then beginning to talk about his day. Merlin should be grateful for the drop of the subject, but it only left him feeling guilty and empty. Because Arthur was pulling away, he could feel it with every part of him, and it was only because he couldn’t tell him the truth. He hated how it made him feel, hated how he was making Arthur feel and wished more than anything that he had the power to tell him the truth. He couldn’t lose Arthur, not now, he just couldn’t.

Merlin brought it up at the next meeting in the Headmaster’s office. Uther had sat up straighter at the announcement, and his eyes narrowed dangerously, a clear sign of his love and protection for his son. Cohen lifted an eyebrow in inquiry, and Gwaine and Percy looked at him both seriously and maybe happily.

“And why exactly, does Arthur need to know?” Uther probed.

Merlin winced. The relationship he shared with Arthur had been kept quiet among any bodies of authority, less they let Uther what they saw. It wasn’t that Arthur was ashamed of him, he had told him the contrary: “I just…I want a chance to tell him myself, you know? When I’m sure what we have between us is real and good and he won’t scare you away.”

He had smiled and told the blond that he doubted that would ever happen, but agreed. Now, he looked as if he had no choice. He chose his words carefully. “Arthur and I…we’re really close and, I don’t like lying to him…I can feel him pulling away from me and I know that the only way to get him back, is to tell him the truth, all of it. And besides, if the killer knows about Arthur, surely that means he’ll be in danger too, right? He can’t protect himself if he doesn’t know what’s happening,” he persuaded.

“Are you sure you can trust this kid?” Barton questioned, ignoring the dark look that Uther sent him at that insinuation.

“Yes,” Merlin stated automatically. He didn’t need to think about that one, “Completely.”

“Arthur’s a good person,” Percy vouched, “And he really cares about Merlin...”

“He’s been asking whether we’ve notice anything strange about him recently,” Gwaine confessed.

“He has?” Merlin sounded surprised.

“Yeah, we’ve tried to convince him that he’s just imagining things, but the others are starting to pick up differences as well, so it’s getting harder and harder,” Gwaine looked apologetic, “It could be good to have another person on our side. Merlin and Arthur spend an outlandish amount of time together. He’d protect Merlin with everything,” Gwaine assured.

_Would he though?_ Merlin couldn’t help but wonder. Sure, he might have before, when he believed he was dating Alex Vhalos, but would he after he found out that it was actually Merlin Emrys? Would he ever trust Merlin again, for lying to him? Would he be able to handle the responsibility and the horridness of Merlin’s past? All this questions swam around his mind, only making the tightening in his gut worse. He could just hear how angry Arthur would be when he found out he had been lied to. Arthur had told Merlin before how much he hated to be lied to, and Merlin wondered whether he would even try to understand, or whether he would be so blinded with pain that he would refuse to see the necessity of it all. Although he hoped for the first, he knew Arthur well enough. He was a stubborn and bull-headed clotpole and it would take some serious grovelling and forced conversation to even return to a stage where they could talk comfortably once more.

He hated that idea, but he hated the idea of losing Arthur forever more, and if telling him the truth would keep Arthur safe, and would keep the blond from pulling away from him so utterly, he would take it.

Now the only issue is _when_.

And apparently, when is a lot sooner than Merlin anticipated.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave your thoughts here or on my [tumblr](http://queenofhales.tumblr.com) :3


	10. Chapter 10

 

The Pendragon Benefit Ball came around once a year, at the end of March. It’s held at the old Pendragon estate, and numerous numbers of gentry, businessmen and the parents of Camelot Academy students’ were all invited to raise money for a charity that changed each time. This year, it was the Protection of Children.

Merlin did even know the ball was something that were obligated to go to, until Elena had turned to him one lunch with a huge smile on her face and asked him what he was planning on wearing.

“Uh,” he swallowed around a mouthful of food, “I wasn’t actually planning on…”

“What? Not planning to wear clothes?” she had teased back, “Alex, as much as I’m sure Arthur would enjoy that, there is something called public indecency laws that need to be kept in mind.”

Merlin quirked a smile good-naturedly. “I meant, I wasn’t actually planning on going.”

When the table fell silent to stare at him wide eyed, Merlin realised he may have made some kind of social faux par he didn’t know about. He set his fork down gently. “What?” he inquired.

“What do you mean you weren’t planning on coming?” Elena burst out.

“You have to come! Everyone comes!” Leon insisted.

“It’s expected.” Percy agreed.

“Hasn’t Arthur asked you yet?” Gwen asked ludicrously.

Merlin shook his head. “Arthur hasn’t said anything. Well,” he paused thoughtfully, “Nothing that constitutes being asked as a date. He mentioned something about having to get a new suit, but that’s all I’ve heard. And besides, I wouldn’t have anything to wear.”

“Well, that simply won’t do,” Morgana stated, wiping her mouth delicately, “This weekend, I’m taking you shopping.”

“But I don’t have any mo-“Merlin started to argue back, but she shut him up with one quick glare.

“Money isn’t exactly an issue for me, so don’t worry about it. Think of it as…a welcome to the family treat,” she advised.

Merlin tried not to blush at the implications, as well as squelch the guilt that flared and made his stomach tightened comfortably.

So it was set. Morgana was going to take him to the tailors in town to get measured for a suit – and something told him that Gwen or Mithan would come, because they liked to get involved in that kind of thing. Merlin could just see the wicked glints in their eyes when Morgana said that anyone could tag along if they wanted. He was grateful for them, that they wanted to help him, but he couldn’t help wondering why Arthur hadn’t mentioned it to him. Maybe it was because he wasn’t ready to announce to his father that he was in a relationship – he could understand that – but that still doesn’t explain why Arthur had said anything before, that it was Gwen who had brought up Arthur needing a date. Maybe it was because he already had someone else in mind and he didn’t want to upset Merlin. His heart clenched at the thought of Arthur being with someone else - some pretty girl that was built with curves and delicate giggles, someone that his father wouldn’t question his interest in, because, really, Merlin completely aware of how beautiful Arthur was and how much he, well, _wasn’t_.  He wasn’t sure whether he could take going to the ball knowing that Arthur would be there with someone that wasn’t him.

Of course, he didn’t say that to Arthur. He had spent days telling himself that he should take the initiative and ask Arthur – they were dating, it wouldn’t be completely wrong for him to ask first – and trying not to feel jealous every time he caught sight of Arthur talking to the girls in the class. It was stupid, he knew, because each time his blue eyes landed on him, Arthur would beam, excuse himself and move to the dark haired boy’s side, pulling him close and taking a kiss, but it was still here, just at the back of his mind, reminding him of how Arthur could do so much better.

A few times it looked as if Arthur was going to say something to him. He’d get this intense look on his face and open his mouth – and then it would be as if someone had reminded him of something horrible because he’d wince and blurt something completely out of nowhere, or he wouldn’t say anything, just avert his gaze. It was a little annoying, almost as if they were both skirting around each other, and it took nearly a week before the topic of the ball was even brought up.

Merlin gripped the covers beneath him tightly and tried to muffle his shuddered moan into the bundled up fabric. He canned his hips upward, following the fingers that were pistoning in and out of him at an erratic pace. Arthur was at his arse, pushing in and hooking his fingers in search of that one spot that would make the body underneath him keen. He’d let out a shaky breath each time. They’d been doing this for what felt like hours, stretching the pleasure as long as possible.

Both had decided to take the sex thing slow. Neither had had sex before – because drunken hand jobs and fingering hardly counts – and wanted to try everything it entailed, leading up to the big event. Today would have been the second time they’d tried anything like this (and Merlin still had google it on his phone). The first was awkward and hesitant and full of stuttered out apologises from Arthur when he would thrust just a little too hard and Merlin when he came far too quickly onto Arthur’s pillow. But now, it was, god, it was _perfect_.

The tips of Arthur’s fingers brushed against his prostate and Merlin jerked with a gasp, spreading his legs eagerly. Arthur made a choked noise at the move, and his eyes widened as he watched Alex take his fingers down to the second knuckle so easily. Fuck, he was made for this. Arthur suspected he may have said that out loud, but at that moment, he couldn’t care less. His rim was red and puffy from use and Arthur pressed a soothing kiss to the pale skin just above, the end of his tongue flicked out in testing.

“Oh, _fuck_ …” Merlin cursed, his voice higher than he expected, and clenched involuntarily around Arthur’s fingers.

“God, I can’t wait to fuck you…” the blond muttered behind him, his voice almost dazed with lust.

Merlin was so hard. When he bowed his head, he could see his dick, hanging heavily between his legs, the tip purpling and wet, so very wet. It slapped thickly against his stomach with every jolt forward and it was just too much. He needed to cum so badly that he could taste it at the back of his mouth, so badly that it was beginning to hurt. He was sure he was begging Arthur for it to end – could hear faint words of “please” and “I can’t…” through the thumping of his ears – but he couldn’t bring himself to care, especially when a hand, callous and strong, wrapped around the base of his cock and stroked him firmly, slowly, downwards. He whined pitifully and his hips moved vehemently between the hold of his cock and the fingers in his arse, not entirely sure which he wanted more at the moment.

And then it was over. Merlin let out a cry, his eyes clenching shut as his hips shuttered, cum striping across his belly and the sheets below him that, in all fairness, were already wet from where he had been rubbing off against him. The fingers were removed quickly, leaving his hole gapping and empty. Merlin heard Arthur’s breathing shudder and the sound of flesh slapping flesh, and he barely had enough energy to incline his head behind him.

Arthur’s eyes were clenched shut and his mouth had fallen open, almost involuntarily, to allow the harsh, uncontrollable breaths through. His lips were swollen and he licked them every few seconds. His cheeks and his chest were spotted with red and pink. He held his dick tightly in his hand and jerked himself off, lacking in the skill he usually has. One hand was still holding onto his arse, holding it open and Merlin’s mouth went dry when he realised what the blond wished to do.

It was almost in slow motion when his hips lost their rhythm, his balls tightened and pulled upwards into his body before he finally erupted. Merlin gasped loudly at the feeling of hot, wet cum painting his arse and he clenched his ring, dragging cum inside. Arthur’s grip on his arse loosened, and it took all the blond’s energy to not fall, boneless, onto Merlin’s back.

He lay at his side and encouraged Merlin to drop his hips and lie on his side. His fingers scratched through his cum, collecting some of it and gently pushed them into Merlin’s arse, massaging the walls. Merlin tightened around his fingers and his eyes opened, half casted, and grinned filthy.

“That was hot,” he murmured.

Arthur nudged long the curve of Merlin’s nose, until he could brush his lips across Merlin’s face. “Glad to be of assistance,” he responded.

Merlin hummed. “We need to do that again…when I can feel my legs.”

Arthur chuckled. “Done,” he agreed.

A comfortable silence fell between them as both soaked in the warmth and lightness of the afterglow. Arthur watched Alex’s peaceful face and…well, he made his decision. He’d been trying to work up the courage to invite his wonderful boyfriend to the benefit. It seemed stupid really, that he was so worry, but he was a big deal, at least to him. He’d never had a date for one of these things, had never even thought about it, even if he had been dating someone at the time. For him, this would be monumental - finally telling his father, admitting the seriousness of the relationship. It was…daunting. But, if it was ever going to be anyone, it was going to be Alex, and he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. It was just cruel of him to do that to the other boy, to make him wait until he, selfishly, was ready. They’d been together for nearly five months now. It was time.

This time, when he opened his mouth to ask, he hurried out the words.

“So, about the benefit next week…” he started.

“Are we seriously going to have to this conversation when you have your fingers in my arse?” Merlin interrupted, his voice mildly disbelieving.

“If I don’t say it now, I probably never will,” Arthur admitted quietly.

Merlin breathed out slowly. “Hmm, okay, carry on…”

The blond licked his lips nervously. “Do you, ah…w-will you…”

“If this is your way of asking to me to be your date for the benefit ball, then my answer is yes,” Merlin stated, easily cutting into the stuttered ramble. His lips twitched into a smile.

Arthur let out a breathy laugh, and pulled Alex closer; ignoring the small noise he released at the sudden movement and instead, pressed a firm kiss to the pliant lips. The relief he felt that Alex had known what he was going to say and just agreed was…amazing.

 

*

 

The Pendragon Estate was…big. That was the only word to describe it. No, wait, looming and intimidating would also be a good fit. The mansion had been built away from the closest town, about 10 miles, at the end of a long winding road that seemed to go on forever, hidden between two thick rows of trees on either side. The rooftop peeked out above the canopy, as if watching those who wished to intrude on it’s solitary.

Gwaine and Percy had given him and Arthur a lift to the venue. Apparently, Arthur usually travelled with Morgana and Uther, but because of Merlin, he’d decided it was best to have a few minutes to just be them until they were both faced with the interrogative might of his father, not to mention his older sister, Morgause.

“In the fact, the only one who might not say anything is Uncle Agravaine,” Arthur mused earlier as they were getting ready, “He doesn’t ever seem concerned about this kind of thing.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” Merlin had responded dryly.

The closer they got the house, the more Merlin’s stomach was churning into uncomfortable knots. He was nervous, so very nervous. Because, for all intents and purposes, he was meeting his boyfriend’s family for the first time. Uther liked him well enough as a student and as his friend’s nephew, but would he still have the same sentiment when he realised he was dating his son? What if he didn’t think Merlin was good enough? I mean, there was no denying that Merlin wasn’t exactly from a rich and profitable family. Or what if he resented the fact that the entire span of their relationship Merlin had lied to Arthur about something or other? It’s not exactly a good basis for a relationship and, well, it would be understandable. Merlin still hadn’t worked up the courage to tell Arthur the truth about anything. He’d tried a few times but, it just never seemed right. However, he knew he couldn’t avoid the topic forever. It just wasn’t fair.

_Soon_ , he vowed to himself, _soon_.

Arthur’s hand closed around his own and it was as if the tension escaped him in one long, drawn out breath. He smiled awkwardly. Arthur gave him an encouraging smile and raised his hand to press a kiss to the knuckle.

“It’ll be okay,” he murmured, “My father will love you.”

Merlin tried to look convinced and glanced towards the rear view mirror. Percy, who was driving, kept glancing at him through the reflection. Even though it was just his job to make sure that Merlin was protected, he was sure that Percy’s need to hover over everything he did was a little out of his duties as police detail. It made him happy to know that Percy and Gwaine, although he wasn’t nearly as bad with the protective stance, were there as his friend, more so then as part of their job. He offered the man what he hoped was a reassuring smile (he wasn’t convinced it was, considering the odd look Percy sent him in return).

Merlin leant towards Arthur, nuzzling his head against the curve of his neck, and tried to calm his nerves. Everything would be fine. It’ll be fine. All fine, he repeated the statements over and over again, as if that would help make it true.

 

*

 

The massive hall had been decorated with an old renaissance feel. Apparently, a masquerade ball was an important part of the life of the rich. Merlin uneasily adjusted the mask that rested on his noses and tightened his grasp around Arthur’s hand, whom squeezed back just as hard. He glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye, although it was a little difficult with the strip of fabric that blocked a whole portion of Arthur’s face, but that didn’t mean just the small look of Arthur staring out into the room, chewing his bottom lip religiously, didn’t succeed in making him forget some of his worries. The blond was just too distracting, for Merlin at least. Everything he did was something that Merlin found that he was able to watch for hours. This discovery had amused Arthur greatly for some reason.

Now, Merlin allowed his worries to be overwhelmed by his realisation of how wonderful Arthur looked. Of course, he always looked good, and it wasn’t as if Merlin hadn’t seen him in his suit earlier that evening (which was only of the reasons why they had been late meeting Gwaine and Percy, although Arthur hadn’t been too worried about that) but now that he surrounded by gowned women and suited men, all hiding their identity behind scraps of fabric, it was most as if he _belonged_.

Arthur felt the stare burning into his cheek and turned, arching his eyebrow in question. Alex had this goofy grin on his face that made Arthur flushed and want to fidget, because no one had ever looked at him like that before. It was contrasted with the intense sharpness to his eyes that brought goosebumps to his bronze skin when he was reminded of the last time Alex had looked at him like that – only a few hours ago, when he’d been pushed against the wall of their dormitory. He’d been ready to argue and protest loudly at the action, but then Alex had dropped so willingly to his knees, tugging roughly at his trousers and then proceeded to try and suck his brain out through his cock. He had enough sense to not argue by that point.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he finally said lowly, a lack of conviction in his voice that was noticed, judging by the slight widening of the grin.

“Oh and why should I?” Merlin challenged.

“Because I might have to let you start something that I would almost definitely want you to finish, and that’s not something I want to happen when I’m about to introduce you to my crazy and mildly feral family,” Arthur answered, shuffling closer.

Worry crossed Alex’s face again, and Arthur cursed himself for reminding them both about what was about to happen.

“Are you sure he’ll like me?” the dark haired boy inquired softly.

“Of course,” Arthur said without hesitation, “Why wouldn’t he? He likes you well enough as a student, he asks me about you all the time.”

“Yes, but that’s going to be slightly different now that he’d going to find out that I’m buggering his son,” Merlin hissed out.

Arthur arched an eyebrow. “Don’t get a head of yourself,” he chided, “You haven’t buggered me yet.”

“Find us a spare room and I’ll take care of that for you,” Merlin told him, drawing him closer.

Arthur tightened his grip on the ends of the suit jacket and tried to fight how tempting that idea was. He settled with pressing a brief kiss to the parted lips. “Later,” he breathed out.

Merlin groaned over exaggeratedly. “Fine,” he said begrudgingly, “Let’s go find your father.”

In the end, the whole introduction didn’t turn out as badly as Merlin had thought it would. Arthur had practically frog marched him over to where his father had been standing, talking with an old friend, that Arthur greeted as professionally as his father. Clearly, he’d grown used to these interactions. Merlin had just smiled weakly and offered a quick wave of his hand in greeting. The three chatted easily about some kind of legal firm that sounded vaguely familiar to Merlin for a few minutes, before the man – “Sir David Reynolds,” Arthur told him under his breath, “he’s one of my father’s old friends, they were in boarding school together” – departed. Uther turned to his son with an arched eyebrow – Merlin was beginning to see where Arthur got that look from – and asked, “So you have something to tell me?”

Arthur took in a deep breath and steadied himself before he spoke, “Father, I’d like to introduce you to Alex-“

“Yes, we’ve met,” Uther interrupted breezily.

“-my boyfriend,” Arthur continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

Merlin could see the exact moment that Uther tensed at the knowledge. His expression went blank for a moment, and his eyes pierced into Merlin’s skin. He tried for a smile, which came out strained as he expected it out be, and just held onto Arthur’s hand, the grip probably the only reason he was still standing right now. As quickly as the blankness enveloped him, it faded away, leaving a kind of resigned look in its place.

“I expect you to be present for family dinners, Alex,” he stated, and Merlin couldn’t decide whether that was good thing or not, but he nodded his acceptance anyway.

“You get to tell your sister,” Uther told his son, before he left to speak to another of his guests.

“He means Morgause,” Arthur clarified, with a slight frown to his expression.

“Is that bad?” Merlin wondered.

“No, of course not, not really anyway, it’s just…” he trailed off for a moment before continuing, voice more determined than before, “No, she’ll definitely like you. Of course she will.” It sounded more as if he was assuring himself than the dark haired boy beside him, but Merlin didn’t say anything about that. He did however; hold Arthur in place when he decided to start a speedy trot towards a tall elegant blond on the other side of the room.

“Where are you going?”

Arthur blinked, a little confused. “Um, to introduce you to Morgause?”

“Arthur, I’ve just been introduced to your father as your boyfriend, one of the scariest people I’ve encountered. Can we wait a few minutes before I’m thrown at the sister that will ‘No, yes, definitely like me’?” Merlin pleaded.

Tension seemed to drop from the blond’s broad shoulders and he gave a small sheepish smile. “Sorry, of course,” he allowed with a nod, “How about a drink?”

Merlin nodded with a pleased smile. “And then a dance.” He stated.

“A dance?” Arthur repeated.

Merlin hummed and looked a little bashfully. “I’ve never…danced with anyone before,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“Well, not unless you count my mother and father, which I don’t,” he elaborated.

Arthur’s smile was soft and warm in a way that made Merlin’s heart flutter. “I’d love to be your first dance,” he agreed gently.

Merlin beamed happily, and hugged the hand he held closer, easily allowing himself to be lead to one side of the room where a banquet table had been set up. Gwen and Lance were standing close together by the drinks and seemed almost eager to see them when they approached.

“Oh thank god you’re here,” Gwen exclaimed.

“Never had this kind of greeting before,” Arthur commented with laughter in his gaze, “Have you finally realised my superior good looks and amazing personality Gwen and have decided to run away with me?” he paused for a moment, “I may have to bring Alex though, I’ve become fond of him.”

He squeezed the hand in his softly.

“Just try taking them away from me Arthur,” Lance joked back, “I’ll fight you in the name of their honour.”

“What honour?” Merlin snorted.

“Yes, you took that long ago,” Gwen informed, making Lance turn pink with embarrassment and bury his face in the crook of her neck.

“I however am still working on it,” Arthur stated cockily, and Merlin flushed, failing at discretely nudging the blond’s side in warning.

He tried to change the subject. “So why were you so excited to see us?”

“We’ve been standing here for nearly an hour and we couldn’t see anyone we recognised, and if one more person asked where the bathroom was, I was going to scream,” Gwen stated, her voice rising with her frustration.

Arthur winced sympathetically. “I’m sorry. My father’s friends are a little, well…”

“Stuck-up?” Lance offered.

“Conceited?” Gwen suggested.

“Arrogant?” Merlin joined.

“Old-fashioned,” Arthur finished, amused.

“Always political, Pendragon,” Lance teased.

Arthur just smiled and reached behind his friends to pass over a flute of champagne to Merlin. He accepted the glass and stared into the depths of the liquid uncertainly. He’d only ever had champagne once before, at the renewal of his parents’ vows three years ago, and even then it had only been a sip. He hadn’t liked it very much. But really, with the feelings swirling around in his stomach, alcohol might actually help. He gulped deeply from the bottom of the glass.

Gwen looked at him surprised. “Blimey Alex, what’s the rush? The glasses get refilled every ten minutes.”

Merlin looked shy. “It’s just…I…”

“He’s just met my father,” Arthur helped his boyfriend.

“Really?” Gwen looked ecstatic at the prospect.

“Yup, it’s true. We’re official,” Merlin nodded.

“Good on you mate,” Lance congratulated, clapping his friend warmly on the shoulder, “Honestly, it took you long enough.”

“So you’ve reminded, practically every day since Christmas,” Arthur stated dryly.

Morgana hurriedly approached the small group and hands gripped her brother’s arm insistently. “Arthur, Uncle Agravaine is here. He wanted me to get you,” she explained.

“Of course,” Arthur nodded in understanding. He downed the last of his drink and gave Merlin a small smile, “You up for another family introduction?”

“Probably not,” Merlin confessed, hands already reaching for another flute of the bubbling liquid.

Arthur chuckled. “I’ll come and find you later,” he promised.

“I’ll be here…probably…” Merlin called after the blond as he disappeared through a crowd of people, turning to give a quick wave in goodbye.

He swallowed around another large mouthful of drink.

 

*

 

“He’s finally alone,” Cedric muttered into the phone line, “Should I give it to him now?”

“Give it some time – a few minutes, enough to get him worried.”

“What if Arthur shows up?”

“He won’t,” the voice was dismissive, so sure.

“Are you…” Cedric hesitated worriedly, “are you really going to kill him?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern Sigan. Just do your job.”

**_Click._ **

Cedric sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was beginning to regret getting messed up into this shit. He’d been annoyed and frustrated and desperate to find a way to get revenge on that bloody Vhalos-although-he’s-really-an-Emrys kid for humiliating him and his friends so easily. And when the man, huge and intimidating with an arrogant sneer on his face, approached him with the answer to his problems.

But did he really want to kid dead?

_Too late now_ , a mocking voice reminded him, and Cedric pulled the mask back over his face. From where he was standing, he could see Merlin standing awkwardly in his suit by the food table, sipping from his third glass of champagne. He had no idea how right he was to be nervous.

Cedric took in a shaky breath and recited his orders once more. After all, he had a job to do.

 

*

 

“This is for you,” the figure said with a voice that was so obviously put on.

Merlin blinked, a little confused, and allowed his eyes to drop to the envelope in the masked man’s hand. Fear gripped him. A note…it was another note. He looked frantically up at the man, maybe looking for some kind of recognition for what he had in his hand, but all he got was a blank stare.

“W-who…” he stuttered out the words.

“It’s for you,” the figure stated again.

And that’s when Merlin got really angry. He’d had enough of these notes just appearing out of nowhere, just when he was beginning to feel happy and comfortable again. The murderer was taunting him, he could tell, and all with the help of this utter prick standing in front of him. Of course, he couldn’t tell who he is through the thick mask that covered three quarters of an angled face, but the stranger was definitely familiar. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration and he took heavy steps forward, closing in on the other man. As he neared, he could see the surprise that shone in his brown eyes – he obviously wasn’t expecting this – but he held his ground anyway, not showing any fright.

“Fuck you and these bloody notes,” Merlin spat out harshly, careful to keep his voice low as to not alert anyone else, “Why can’t you just leave me the hell alone? This isn’t funny, it’s sick!”

“This is for you,” the stranger said again and all but forced the paper into Merlin’s clenching hands. Then he was gone, turned on his heel and escaped, the end of his tail coat trailing behind him. Merlin held the envelope as if he were sure it would explode and rose up on his tiptoes desperately searching for a glimpse of the messenger but, among the sea of dresses, suits and masks, it was impossible to pick out one kid. Merlin sighed heavily, running an anxious hand through his hair, and stared down at the fourth and last note.

Should he open it? Merlin bit down on his bottom lip. Honestly, he’d rather slit his own wrists than open this one letter, but something inside of him stop him from just throwing the note away. He searched for a word to describe the tightness in his stomach – foreboding, Merlin realised. That was the feeling. Foreboding. Not a good thing, let’s be honest. He took in a shaky breath and forced himself to peel it open. It opened in clumps of paper, which flittered to the floor when he had no use for them.

He had to wait a few moments before he could actually drag the folded up card out from within the envelope. He noticed his hands were trembling but could do nothing to stop them.

Merlin’s eyes read the note and his heart thundered loudly in his chest. No…he couldn’t have…it was impossible, or was it? He’d managed to get around the school’s security before, who’s to say he couldn’t get around the ones set up at Pendragon Estate? The words seemed to mock him from where they were inked:

**‘Arthur’s been gone an awfully long time, hasn’t he?’**

Had he been gone a long time? Merlin hadn’t thought that much time had passed since the boy had been pulled away by his sister, and Lance and Gwen had announced that they were going to dance. How long had he been standing there? Three minutes, five minutes, ten minutes tops. He had been going to see his uncle – how long did those family meetings usually take? Had Arthur been ambushed on his way back to him? Why wouldn’t anyone have seen? It’s a crowded hall; eyes are everywhere, even if you don’t know who they are. It’s impossible…right?

He looked back at the note, as if it had more clues that would help him find his answer. A few spaces down, the words continued again. This time, it was an order.

**‘Come to the courtyard. May be you’ll find him there. Tell someone, and you might not.’**

Merlin swallowed heavily. He didn’t want to. God that was the last thing he wanted to do. To face that man again, the one who had butchered his family so violently, the one that still haunted his nightmares. Every instinct told him to run and hide – but that’s what he did the last time. When that sick fucker had broken into their home, he’d hid in one of the ornamental cabinets that his mother had dragged down from the attic. It was only later he realised it was a hidey-hole, built to protect magical users from those who wished to do them harm. He’d been stuck, trapped and useless. He’d watched them die and he hadn’t done anything to stop it. Could he do it again? Could he bury his head in the sand, while he slaughtered someone else that Merlin loved?

What if he was lying? What if Arthur was safe and sound with his family and this arsehole was just using his fears against him? That was a logical explanation…right? Merlin rose up onto his tiptoes to see over the heads of the guests and searched desperately for blond hair. His eyes caught yellow crowns every once and a while, and hope and relief would flair in his chest only for him to realise that, no, that wasn’t Arthur. Panic and anxiety festered in his chest. So maybe he was lying. Maybe Arthur was still with his uncle and father and sisters.

_But would you take that risk?_ A voice wondered in the back of his mind.

…No, he couldn’t. Not if Arthur was concerned. He’d rather give himself over to his family’s murderer than have Arthur get hurt because of him. No, he just couldn’t bare it if that happened. So he tried to steel himself, straightening his back and an expression of determination crossed his face. He downed another glass of champagne and tried to ignore how dizzy he was becoming, and began his weave around the crowd to the open back doors that led out into the back of the estate.

When he reached the door, he paused and glanced around him nervously, wondering whether anyone would see him leave. He both wished for it and hoped no one had. He didn’t want someone else getting pulled into this, but really, if someone knew he’d left, maybe they’d be able to send help. He took in a long inhale, holding it for a moment, before, finally, stepping outside.

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

The wind was icy and Merlin shivered, pulling his coat tighter around him. He had to grit his teeth to stop them from chattering and, with each step he took, he wanted nothing more than to just turn around. He didn’t want to do this, have to face this, but he knew he had to. If not because the man may or may not have Arthur, but for himself, to put his mind at ease. _Facing your fears is a patented way to stop yourself being afraid of something._ His father had used the same technique with him as a child, when he was afraid of the dark. It was a completely horrifying experience and Hunith had punished her husband for weeks after that one, but in the end, it had worked. Merlin wasn’t afraid of the dark anymore.

That didn’t mean that every single survival instinct he had wasn’t screaming at him to leave.

The orchestral music and the tamed voice were getting quieter and quieter the deeper he walked into the night, and soon, he realised, no one would be able to hear him. Clearly, this had been well thought through.

The courtyard was a few minutes away from the main hall that the benefit was taking place in, and around the back of the building. It was empty when he arrived, entering from under the arch of a sculptured hedge. There was an old stone path under his feet that lead into the centre of the enclosed space, five other paths mimicking, where a large fountain was placed. The statue was a man pulling a stone from a stone – King Arthur, Merlin realised – and he wondered whether that had any specific significant to the Pendragon family. The water fell sensually over the rock, through the etched grooves that spelt out the old legend, before flowing into the little pond at the bottom.

“Whoever can pull the sword from the stone, is destined to become King of England,” Merlin read quietly, and allowed his fingers to skim the surface of the water.

It was just so serene there, so quiet, so beautiful, that it was almost as if Merlin could finally breathe again as his worries washes away with the gentle circulation of the clear blue water. Of course, that didn’t last very long.

He tensed at the sound of a click, one that seemed almost deafening in the silence, and suddenly he remembered all too well why he was there. His hand lifted from the water, still dripping wet and splattering the paving stones a dark colour, and straightened his back, but didn’t turn around. He wasn’t sure whether he was ready to face this man just yet, but he also knew he didn’t have a choice.

There was a dark chuckle that brought goosebumps to his skin. “I knew you’d come,” he stated simply.

“You said you had Arthur,” Merlin responded quietly.

“Ah, yes, the young Pendragon,” the voice was mocking, “You children are always so stupid. So ready to run head first into any kind of disaster to save something you believe to be love. This was almost too simple.”

“So Arthur’s safe?” Merlin didn’t want to admit how relieved he was by that discovery. Safe. Arthur was safe. He closed his eyes briefly. Good.

“Yes,” the man confirmed, “for now.”

Merlin opened his eyes. “Why are you doing this? Why did you…”

“Orders,” he spoke simply, “You see, someone wants you really badly, and well, your family just wouldn’t give you up. They might have survived if they did.”

It was if all the wind had been forced out of him in one fail swoop. Him…this person wanted him? That’s why it happened? Why his mother had her throat slit, and his father stripped of his flesh, and his uncle beaten until he was bruised and bloody and broken? It was him. All him. They’d done it to protect him.

He wanted to believe it wasn’t true. Wanted to believe that this man, this fucker that had turned his life upside down, was lying to him, but why would he? He’d already got Merlin right where he wanted him, away from his protection and, what Merlin suspected to be, at gunpoint. What reason would he have for lying? As try as he might, Merlin couldn’t think of any.

His circling thoughts were interrupted by low laughter. “Oh, didn’t you know? Mummy and Daddy and old Uncle Gaius all died trying to keep my boss from finding you. Because they wanted to protect you – how sweet. They didn’t even know it would all be in vain. Because the one place you were sent, one of the safest places in England, is actually the last place where you wanted to be.”

It seemed almost as if he was getting cocky, talking just a little too much about his boss and his plans. It probably wouldn’t matter anyway. The changes were that he would be dead by the end of the night, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try and find out what he could. Merlin licked his lips. “W-why?”

“Because my boss has a, ah, shall we say, special connection to the Pendragon family.”

“And w-why does he want m-me?”

“Oh he doesn’t want you. He wants your blood, Dragon Lord.”

There is was again. That story: Dragon Lord. He was getting sick and tired of hearing about it.

“I’m not a Dragon Lord,” he finally stated, “They’re just a story.”

“So you say, so I thought, but apparently the boss believes differently. Apparently, Dragon Lords worked along side with the great King Arthur during his reign; was the biggest secret weapon Camelot held in battle. But some of the warlocks in Camelot, they weren’t happy that the Dragon Lord kept all his power and influence over the kind to himself, leaving the others with nothing, so they made a way to fix it.”

“And what way was that?”

“A way to absorb someone’s magic. And you, Dragon Lord, the last Dragon Lord, possess more powers than even you know.”

“A-and what does your boss want with the magic of a Dragon Lord?”

“Revenge,”

“On who?”

“Uther Pendragon, of course. It’s hardly surprising really. That man has a lot of enemies – it’s likely to assume that he would have enemies even within his own home.”

“And your boss told you all of this?”

The man laughed. “Of course not, but my skills aren’t just limited to murders and torture.”

“As if they’re such wonderful credentials,” Merlin commented snidely. He was getting overconfident, he knew, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Some cold and infinitely dangerous pressed into his shoulder blade threateningly and Merlin tensed once more, taking in a sharp breath.

When the voice spoke again, it was low and hissed, like a snake. “Don’t get sarcastic with me, Emrys. It won’t end well for you.”

“Isn’t it already going to end with my death?” he wondered, “Why haven’t you just killed me anyway?”

“Ah, you beg for death,” this seemed to please him, “I would be happy to oblige, however, those are not my orders. I am to bring you to him.”

“Who is he?”

“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.”

“And who are you?”

“I think you and your police buddies already know that. Why don’t you turn around to make sure?”

Merlin much preferred staring at the flowing water but something told him that the question was more of an order than anything else, and though he may be unable to kill him, Merlin was sure he would have no issues with injuring him a little. So he did as he was told, his knees threatening to buckle beneath his weight as he turned to face a murderer that had no sympathy or guilt for what he had done.

Valiant was just how he remembered. Harsh features with cold eyes and an aggressive frame that was built for intimidating and causing bodily harm. Of course, he looked different now from before. Now, he was clean and looking smart in his black and white tuxedo, instead of dirtied with blood. The gun was steady in his hands, pointed directly to the centre of his chest.

It took of courage for him to meet the man’s gaze head on. He didn’t want to be afraid anymore and he certainly didn’t want Valiant to see it either. He wasn’t sure whether it had worked or not when he arched an amused eyebrow at him.

“Now, are you going to come without a fight, or not?” Valiant questioned.

“It…it doesn’t seem as if I have a choice.”

“Damn, I was hoping for something interesting.”

“So you want something interesting?” the unexpected voice was dark and familiar, enough that joy swam through him and a smile began to form on his lips. Percy appeared in one of the archways, a gun poised heavily in his hand. From the opposite side, Gwaine appeared in a similar position, his expression hard and angered.

“I’m sure we can oblige,” he continued darkly.

 

*

 

Arthur’s eyebrows came together in puzzlement as he wondered where Alex had disappeared to. He’d only been gone for about half an hour because, although he loved talking with his uncle, he didn’t want to leave his date alone for an extended period of time. He’d been brought up better than that. He’d expected the dark haired boy to still be by the food table, but nothing.

So he’d started a quick hunt around the room, peering through groups of students from Camelot Academy and their parents, and his father’s old business partners. He smiled at those he had to and ignored the ones he didn’t. He didn’t mean to be rude about it; he just wasn’t in the mood to interact with any more people today. In fact, his plan had been to follow up on Alex’s suggestion from earlier. After all, his bedroom would be empty, and who was he to not take advantage of it?

Arthur caught sight of Dana and Elyan, who the blond was pleased to see had his arm wrapped around her shoulder – seriously, it had taken them long enough – Mithan and Leon, and Gwaine, just off from the middle of the floor. He approached them at a quick jog.

“Hey mate, having a good night?” Leon greeted, clapping him on the back.

“Yeah, how did telling your dad about Alex go?” Dana wondered.

“Uh, good, I think, we’ll just have to wait and see,” Arthur responded absentmindedly, “On that topic, have you seen him?”

“Seen Alex?” Mithan said surprised.

“Yeah, I mean, I had to go speak to my uncle for a few minutes. He said he’d be by the food table, but he wasn’t there when I went back. Just wondering whether he might have found you guys and I don’t know, decided to hang out for a bit.”

Elyan looked worried. “No, I haven’t seen him.”

“Maybe he’s in the bathroom?” Dana suggested uncertainly.

“He’s not in the bathroom.”

The group paused and glanced to the man that stood just outside their circle. Arthur’s eyes narrowed at the sight of Cedric Sigan, looking a little nervous and maybe guilty? He took a menacing step forward.

“And how do you know that?” he demanded to know.

“Because I’m the one who told him where to go,” Cedric replied.

“And where was that?”

He watched them all blankly and didn’t answer right away. Arthur growled under his breath and made to move forward and make the boy tell him where Alex was, but Gwaine got there first. He didn’t think he’d ever seen the man so angry. His usually handsome face was twisted into something sinister and hate-ridden, and he grasped the front of Cedric’s suit, lifting him off the ground. Cedric let out a startled noise, which was cut off by Gwaine’s cold and enraged voice.

“Where did you send him?”

“He made me,” Cedric struggled to defend himself, desperation seeping into his voice.

“Where is he?” Gwaine snarled.

“In-in the courtyard,” he stammered out, “Please don’t hurt me.”

Gwaine huffed out in disgust and dropped Cedric heavily to the floor. He didn’t even glance at the gapping faces behind him or the form in front of him as the kid scrambled to his feet. He merely dropped onto one knee, tugging up the bottom of his trousers and unclipped the 9mm Glock from a holster on his ankle.

“Gwaine, what the fuck?” Dana demanded, gapping at her friend.

Percy appeared like a silent shadow over their shoulders and stared at Gwaine like he’d lost his mind. “What happened?” he questioned.

Gwaine glanced at him over his shoulders as he discreetly checked the gun was loaded, making sure that no other patrons could see what was happening. “Sigan just admitted that he’s the one leaving those notes.”

Percy’s expression hardened. “What?”

“Yeah, and he’s sent Merlin into the courtyard for a little one to one meeting with Valiant,” he continued.

“Right,” Percy nodded understandingly, reaching inside his suit jacket pocket and pulling an identical weapon from within the coat’s lining.

“Have you both lost your bloody minds?” Mithan condemned.

“Who’s Merlin?” Arthur demanded to know.

His eyes narrowed in annoyance when Gwaine and Percy shared a tentative look, and when they turned back, their resolute expression showed that they weren’t going to say anything.

“Just stay here,” Gwaine instructed firmly, his voice taking on an authoritative tone that Arthur hadn’t heard him use before.

The couple left the hall on quick feet, guns held tightly in their clasps, ducking out of the patio doors. Arthur watched them closely for a moment, reaching a decision. He was never good at doing what he was told anyways.

 

*

 

For his part, Valiant didn’t even look scared. He just laughed throatily and grinned widely.

“How’d you find out?” he questioned.

“You need to better help,” Gwaine sneered.

“Ah, Sigan. I’ll get his scrawny arse sooner or later,” Valiant told them, as if it were nothing.

“Put your gun down,” Percy ordered, “It’s over.”

“Hmm, maybe, but not quite yet,” he stated.  No one could move fast enough. Honestly, it was probably because of how startling the move was. Valiant fired the gun with perfect aim towards Merlin, who could only flinched at the resounding noise that the gun made as the bullet was shot from the barrel. Three more fires followed and then nothing.

Merlin wasn’t even aware that he’d been hit until he caught a glance at the red spreading across his white shirt, staining it, out of the bottom of his eye. Then for a moment all he could do was stare wide-eyed, his breathing coming out escalating alarmingly fast. And the pain hit him hard, making him wince and gasp out. The world seemed to rush past him and he was on his back, the stone cold against his jacket. He blinked dazed, and one of his hands fell to the wound, covering the pale skin in the sick liquid and he trembled at the sight.

“Oh god,” he croaked out.

He’d been shot. Valiant had shot him. He was bleeding. Heavily, quickly, as far as Merlin could tell. A-and he was going to die. He was dying. He was dying.

_Dying._

Gwaine’s panicked face appeared over his, hands clutching at his cheeks and slapping him brusquely, yelling orders to stay awake that he barely heard over the muffling in his ears. He tried to obey though, he did, shaking his head and blinking his eyes. Someone must have shouted something in the background – maybe Percy who, when he turned his head, he could pinning a manically grinning Valiant to the floor with his heavy weight – and Gwaine called something in return, something about calling an ambulance; something about Cohen and Barton that he didn’t real listen to.

He twisted his head again, hitting his ear and temple repeatedly on the paving stones that made his head ache and ring loudly and just stilled in place when he saw something in the bushes. No, not something – someone. Arthur.

The blond was staring at him with wide eyes, the blue swimming with tears and disbelief and fear and anguish. Merlin mouthed his name desperately, unable to get actual words out at that moment, and he smiled weakly.

Because if these were his last moments, if this were it for him, he was glad that the last thing he was saw Arthur. There was no one else he would rather see.

The vision of Arthur, an angel in his darkness, fuzzed and faded as he dipped into unconsciousness, approaching sirens echoing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oohh cliffhanger :P
> 
> Next chapter should hopefully be up by the end of the week.
> 
> Let me know what you think here or on my [tumblr](http://queenofhales.tumblr.com/ask)


	12. Chapter 12

 

_Beep. Beep._

_Beep. Beep._

_Beep. Beep._

The noise was constant and ceaseless, seeming to resonance around Merlin’s already aching head. He tried to twitch away from it to no avail.

_Beep. Beep._

_Beep. Beep._

_Beep. Beep._

Then it wasn’t just beeping. There were voices. Professional and informal, shouting out “he’s coming around” to the rest of the room and it took a few seconds for Merlin to realise they were talking about him. The numbness fell away quickly, leaving the dull throbbing of his joints and muscles, and the piercing jolt of pain whenever he inhaled. He breathed in a hiss through his teeth and stilled, trying to breathe as little as possible to stop the pain. Vaguely, he heard a voice mumble about another injection of morphine being needed. Yes, he agreed with that, more painkillers please.

His eyelids fluttered slightly and he recoiled from the overhead lights that shone into his sensitive eyes. A voice - no, a mixture of them, cooed at him to walk up. Avain, Cohen, Mordred, Gwaine, Percy, Arthur…Arthur was there, he realised suddenly, and his eyes snapped open instantly.

He made to sit up, flinching when he pulled the healing wound in his side, and was pushed back onto his back firmly by the hands of a man in a suit, the doctor, Merlin guessed, and Barton.

“I wouldn’t advise that you move just yet, Mr Emrys,” the doctor told him soothingly, “You’ve just woken up after a three day coma. Take it easy.”

“But-“he started to object.

“You heard the doctor, easy,” Cohen ordered gently.    

The doctor pinned the officer with a pointed look. “Exactly, easy. Now, I understand you need to hear what he has to say about the attack but don’t push him for more than he’s able to give, or you’ll have me to answer to.”

“Understood doc,” the Chief Inspector nodded quickly.

“Good. Rest well, Mr Emrys. I’ll be back to check on you in about an hour – more than enough time to deal with formalities, I’m sure.” The statement sounded more like a warning, before the tall man swept from the room.

“Are you feeling okay?” Percy questioned worriedly.

“My side hurts and my head feels a bit funny, but yeah, I think so,” Merlin answered honestly, “What happened?”

“You were shot,” Cohen responded bluntly.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “No, I mean, what happened after I blacked out. What happened with Valiant?”

“We arrested his arse of course, he’s been charged with murder and assault and kidnapping, as well as a bunch of other cases that no one’s been able to stick him with,” Barton explained, “Right now, he’s in a similar unit to you, on the other side of the hospital, healing from two bullet wounds to the stomach and thigh.”

Gwaine and Percy looked oddly smug at that announcement.

“I’m more interested in what happened before we got there,” Cohen stated, “Jesus, kid, what the hell were you thinking just walking about there alone?”

“There was another letter,” Merlin defended his actions, “It said…he said he had…someone.”

“And I take it he didn’t?”

“No, but I wasn’t going to take the risk,” he continued firmly.

“What did he say to you?” Gwaine interrogated, “When we arrived, it seemed as if you had been talking for a long time.”

“I suppose, Valiant likes to talk,” Merlin’s lips twitched upward with sick amusement, “He…he told me he had been hired.”

“Valiant is a psycho, but everything’s about money with him,” Cohen commented, nodding acceptingly to the information, “Did he say who?”

“No,” Merlin shook his head, “But he did say why. His boss, this guy who hired him, needs me. That’s what he wanted when they broke into the house. If they’d just given me up, they would still be alive…” he trailed off.

Avain’s hands wrapped tightly around Merlin’s own limb, making the boy look up at him from under his fringe. “It isn’t your fault,” he soothed, “They’re your parents, they’re supposed to protect you, especially from crazes with guns. Don’t blame yourself for it.”

“He needs my magic. There’s some, uh, ritual or something that can still a Dragon Lords magic.”

Cohen looked at him surprised. “Dragon Lord?”

“Apparently, my family had a whole lot more secrets than I was aware of,” Merlin said bitterly.

“Do you know why he needs a Dragon Lord’s blood?” Mordred questioned curiously.

“Revenge,” Merlin whispered, “On Uther Pendragon.”

There was a pause at the announcement and Cohen’s face went serious. “Where’s Pendragon right now?” he demanded to know.

“Father returned to the school last night,” Arthur responded lowly, his eyes hidden below the canopy of blond hair, “He said that someone had to be there to make sure the rest of the students were safe.”

“I’ll call the station and get them to send some officers to station outside Pendragon’s office,” Barton affirmed, backing out of the small hospital room.

“Is that all you remember?” Cohen pressed.

“Yes, I swear,” Merlin promised, a little saddened by how little he actually helped. His eyes scanned over the people in the room, all of which were looking at him with such imploring and concern eyes – except for the one person Merlin wanted to. Arthur still had yet to look at him, eyes firmly fixed on the ground, and it made Merlin’s heart twinge and his stomach churn. “Arthur, I-“he began.

“Would you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes?” Arthur inquired, although it sounded more like an order, cutting him off sharply. His voice was cold and monotone and god that did not sound good.

Gwaine hesitated, as if sensing the tension between the pair, but the firm and assuring grip of Percy’s hand on his shoulders made him sigh in reluctant defeat. “Of course,” he settled, “We’ll, um, we’ll be outside.”

“I understand this is a long overdue conversation, but don’t stress him out more than he already is,” Mordred stated in a way that was almost definitely a threat before following.

Arthur didn’t speak until the last person; Cohen had left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He stood up then and began to pace the length of the hospital bed, still refusing to look him in the eyes. Merlin bit his bottom lip and watched the walking anxiously. He wanted to speak, to beg for forgiveness and understanding of why he needed to lie, but something told me that it wouldn’t help him. No, the best thing to do is wait for Arthur to make the first move.

It took him a full two minutes before he even opened his mouth and even then, it was with an accusing voice that made Merlin flinch.

“You lied to me.”

“I-I know, and I’m sorry,” Merlin hurriedly apologised.

“Did you lie about everything?” he commanded the answer, “The whole time. Where you just…playing with me?”

“Of course not! I…I didn’t want to lie to you, but you have to understand that I had no choice,” Merlin begged, “I was going to tell you, I swear.”

“When?”

“Soon, I just…I didn’t know how you would react to finding out…”

“Well now you know,” Arthur threw his arms outwards, as if in presentation, “So who are you really? Gwaine and Percy called you Merlin and the doctor Mr Emrys.”

Merlin took in a shaky breath. “My real name is Merlin Emrys. I was under witness protection at Camelot Academy, because someone – Valiant – murdered my parents and my uncle in September. I…”

“I wouldn’t have told anyone, you must have known that,” Arthur’s voice was almost broken now, desperate, “If you were in danger, I would have kept any secret you told me. I wouldn’t have let you get hurt, I swear.”

“I know,” Merlin appeased quietly. His hands flexed into fists around the bed sheets that covered him.

“I thought you trusted me,” Arthur whispered.

Merlin’s gaze snapped to him in alarm and he found himself reaching out for Arthur’s hands, holding them tight and refusing to let him go even when he struggled. “I trust you Arthur, probably more than I trusted anyone else. You mean so much to me, I wasn’t lying about those feelings towards you…”

“But how do I know that?”

Suddenly, anger consumed Merlin and he frowned deeply, roughly pushing away Arthur’s hands, much to the blond’s surprise. He glared darkly at him. “Fine,” he spat out, “Don’t believe me. You’ve clearly already made up your mind about me.”

“I thought I had, and then I find out that our entire relationship, you lied to me,” Arthur snapped back.

“I lied to you about my name and my background. That’s it. Those stories I told you about me and my childhood and my mother, they were all true. I do have an English scholarship and love freshly baked bread and cakes. I do have a fascination for dragons – which makes much more sense now in hindsight – and my uncle really did teach me everything I know about the universe and medicine. And I definitely never lied to you about how I feel,” Merlin hissed angrily, “Do you think I wanted to feel this way about you? My family had just been brutally ripped away from me and I was too busy with my feelings for you, than I was about mourning them. I hated myself for it. Especially because you’re an utter prat, but you’re my utter prat and I know it’s only been five months but I love you more than I even thought possible, so don’t you fucking dare tell me that all those feelings meant nothing, because they’re all I’ve got left!”

Merlin was breathing unevenly by the end of his rant, and struggled hard to keep the frustrated tears at bay. He hadn’t meant to say that, not now, not while Arthur was still so angry with him. It would sully the meaning and the truth in the words. But now, it was too late. They were already out there. Arthur had already heard them and was staring at him with the most startled expression Merlin had ever seen on his face.

Merlin took in a shaky breath and roughly rubbed his eye with the back of his hand. He sighed heavily and his voice wavered when he spoke. “You don’t have to say anything back. I’m not going to force you if you don’t want to,” he uttered.

A hand tightened around his own. “I do want to, god, I really want to,” Arthur confessed, his voice croaking, “But I can’t, not now. I’m just…so angry with you right now, Al- _Merlin_. I understand why you had to, I swear I do, but I feel so betrayed and cheated and I-I can’t tell you how much I care about you now. I just can’t bring myself to do it. But I don’t want to ruin this anymore than it already is.”

Merlin tightened his grip around the end. “I don’t want to either.” His voice was hopeful.

Arthur let out a choked laugh, and pressed closer to the figure on the bed, burying his face into Merlin’s greasy locks. He just breathed in deeply and focused on getting the shaking in his body to just cease. Merlin leant into the touch, the ends of Arthur’s hair tingling the end of his nose, but he didn’t try to move away.

“So what are we going to do now?” he wondered quietly after a period of silence.

“Start again?” Arthur offered.

“Of course,” Merlin readily agreed. He pulled back and held out his hand, an expression of forced blankness on his face, “Hello, I’m Merlin Emrys. And you are?”

Arthur quirked his eyebrow in amusement but accepted the hand, shaking it firmly. “Arthur Pendragon. Nice to meet you Merlin.”

“And same to you Arthur,” he nodded almost diplomatically. He paused for a moment, thoughtful before replying, “I know I might be pushing my luck, but am I going to have to experience another two months of you being a dick before I can kiss you again?”

“I’m sure we can arrange something different,” Arthur reassured, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. It was brief and chaste, just the press of their cupid’s bows together, and it left Merlin wanting more, but really, he would just take what he can get.

Arthur’s free hand hovered over the back of his neck when he rested his forehead against Merlin’s, just breathing deeply.

“…I’m glad you’re okay,” he admitted softly.

Merlin jerked his head upwards so he could rub the end of his nose along the bridge of Arthur’s. _I’m glad you are too…_

 

*

 

 

“I’ve never had a sleepover in a hospital before,” Dana commented, chucking popcorn up in the air and attempting to catch it in her mouth.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here?” Mithan questioned worriedly.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Arthur cleared it with the head of staff,” Merlin assured.

He’d been in the hospital for a grand total of eight days. Apparently, bullet wounds in your side take ages to heal. The doctor had told him that though he would be discharged from hospital care in the next few days, he would probably still feel the pain in his right side – which had faded into a twinge of pain every time he moved too fast – for the next three months. Arthur came with him after school, usually with Gwaine and Percy, who were still acting as his protective detail until Valiant’s boss was caught, and brought the work from the day that he was immensely grateful for. Not just because he didn’t want to get behind, but because hospital’s were seriously boring. He missed not being able to sit with his friends at lunch – and have real food – and attend lessons, and, perhaps the most, sleeping with Arthur pressed against his back.

It was Arthur’s idea to have the sleepover in the private room that Uther had paid for. He hadn’t seen his friends since the benefit, although Arthur had told him that they’d been asking after him – “they know you’re Merlin, not Alex,” Arthur had informed him, “I tried to explain some it to them, to take some of the stress off of you, and also because they kept asking him and it was getting on my nerves” – and he couldn’t have been happier than when the door to his private room cracked open and Gwen peeked her head through the gap, her smile wide.

“What are we going to do about food and stuff?” Elyan asked, “Because really, I refuse to get hospital food.”

“Percy’s getting pizzas,” Arthur supplied.

Gwaine sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and placing his arms on the back of his head. “Ah, got to love that boy.”

“Why do you think we sent him?” Merlin joked, “All he has to do is flash the nurse a smile and she’ll happily let him in with his grease ridden food.”

Gwaine frowned deeply displeased, making the others around him laugh.

Merlin rested back on the pillow behind him, and couldn’t help but smile out at the room. Gwen announced that they were going to watch P.S I Love You and everyone was just going to have to get used to it, before leaning back into Lance’s open arms. Mithan elbowed Leon in the side when he groaned in an over exaggerated fashion and dissolved into light laughter when Leon bent down to steal a kiss. Dana was draped across Elyan’s stomach, trying to reach the bowl of popcorn he was holding just out of her reach. Elena had her head resting on Gwaine’s thighs, until the door swung open and Percy announced the arrival of pizza. He had glanced up and got up quickly to help him with the boxes he was balancing on one hand, rising up to press a welcoming kiss to the willing lips.

Merlin started when warmth cocooned one of his hands and he blinked at Arthur. The blond smiled at him widely and raised the hand to press a kiss to the back, making Merlin beam at him. Their relationship was getting better, perhaps even better than it had been before – and it had been pretty amazing in Merlin’s books. Now, there was no turrets of guilt whenever Arthur said a name that wasn’t really his own, only this ridiculously pathetic fluttering in his chest whenever he breathed out his name, whether it be with pleasure or with exasperation. It felt good to have told Arthur the truth, finally, and it only reminded him of how long he had lied to him. He stalled that thought speedily.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he whispered the question.

Merlin hummed, dipping his head to press their foreheads together. “Thank you,” he muttered.

“Yeah, well, I could see you were going crazy in here,” Arthur teased.

“I’d already planned my escape,” Merlin responded seriously.

Arthur arched an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Uh-huh, it would be a little difficult to knock out the nurses and doctors so I can get through the corridors, but everything else was pretty much solid,” Merlin explained easily.

“And where were you planning on going once you’ve made your escape?”

“Wherever you decided to take me after you’d met me outside,” he murmured back.

“Awh, such poetry Merlin,” Gwaine crooned.

Merlin and Arthur started away from each other, hands pulling apart. Merlin blushed red and Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. It was safe to say they’d forgotten about the audience of their friends.

Elena booed loudly and wacked Gwaine in the stomach. “I was enjoying that,” she complained.

“I was hoping for a kiss,” Dana added with a grin.

“Should I be jealous?” Elyan questioned.

“Of course not baby,” she cooed, reaching up to tap his cheek mockingly, “It’s just, well, how do I put it?”

“Merlin and Arthur are hot,” Mithan blurted out.

“Exactly, and together, they’re even hotter,” Dana finished.

“Yeah, because that’s so much better,” Elyan rolled his eyes.

“Can you guys stop talking as if we aren’t here?” Arthur groaned loudly, burying his face in his open hands.

“Nope, probably not,” Gwen confirmed.

“So, back to the topic of the kiss…” Elena raised her voice and gave the two boy’s a pointed look. When they blinked at her blankly, she folded her arms across her chest. “Well? I’m waiting.”

“Um, Elena, I don’t…” Merlin started to try and defuse the expectation, when Arthur’s strong hands cupped either side of his face and pulled him into a sudden and firm kiss. He let out a (totally manly) squeak, tensing, before slowly relaxing into the passion behind the steady movement of lips against his own. His lips parted willingly and Arthur licked in teasingly before pulling back. Merlin blinked a little dazed and confused, and Arthur watched him with a smug smile on his face, something that was belied just a little by the equal as out of it look in his eyes.

The moment was broken by Elena clearing her throat and stating, “Uh, yeah, so the next time you two are having some ‘alone time’, do you mind if I set up a camera? You know, purely for research purpose.”

“I’ll take a copy,” Mithan raised her hand.

Percy mimicked her. “Me too,” he grinned widely down at Gwaine, who felt the need to loudly defend that they did not require the use of porn in their sex life.

Merlin, although he was certain that he was the colour of a tomato, grinned widely. Yeah, he had missed these guys so much.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Like my writing? Follow me on [tumblr](http://clawsandmagic.tumblr.com) <3


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